Deluge
by Liv Wilder
Summary: Castle & Beckett's second case as a couple. Following their return from Mexico, a premature infant is found dead on The High Line Park. Five sets of twins are missing & Agent Shaw is back in town. Romance, humor, drama, and a good helping of casework.
1. Chapter 1 Death Shall Have No Dominion

_**Deluge**_

**A/N:** So I just couldn't help myself; I had to get right back on that horse...

To make things a little simpler, I'm aligning this story with the current timeline on the show, in terms of Montgomery being gone, and Gates being in charge. My Kate and Castle are in a relationship, since this story follows on from _Playing for Time_, although you don't have to have read that story to enjoy this one.

* * *

_Chapter 1 – And Death Shall Have No Dominion_

"Castle, have you seen my cell phone charger?" yelled Kate, rummaging around in the depths of the open suitcase that was laid out on the ottoman at the end of his sinfully large bed.

Before their trip, Kate had argued for two suitcases. She like her things neat and orderly, while Castle could be such a boy, except, she had discovered, when it came to the professional folding technique he applied to his dress shirts. He also had more personal grooming items than Kate, by a country mile. In fact she was pretty sure that the term 'metrosexual' had been invented specifically with Richard Castle in mind, and she wouldn't be surprised to find his picture printed as an illustrative reference next to the entry in Webster's.

However, when it had come down to it, Castle had insisted that he wanted their things packed together; 'fraternizing', he called it, inside their luggage. Finally, after much pouting from her partner, Kate had sighed and given in to his childish, romantic request. But only after receiving an assurance from him that she would be the one doing the packing.

Somehow, he'd taken over that responsibility on the trip home, when Kate's defenses were down; lowered by a mixture of deep happiness, good food, and the heavy, sated sensation that left her feeling drugged when she woke up each morning, wrapped in the warm shelter of his body.

Besides that, he'd already seen, handled, inspected, even sniffed on occasion, every item of clothing Kate had brought with her to Mexico. So she gave in gracefully, resigned to her partner's curious, some might say nosey, nature by now.

They'd arrived home from Cabo San Lucas the night before. The private jet Castle had chartered touched down at Tereboro just after nine, because the writer had been determined to squeeze every last second of vacation time with her and they were due back at the precinct this morning.

Well, if she could ever find a clean shirt and her phone charger that was.

"Try my carry-on," he called back from the kitchen, where he was scrambling eggs and humming loudly to himself.

The strains of "Wasting Away Again in Margaritaville", reached Kate's ears and she laughed to herself.

They'd fought a losing battle with the song's powerful earworm properties over the last week, singing anything they could think of to get it out of their heads after the live music act by the resort pool struck up late each afternoon with his tropically-themed repertoire. Kate had even been persuaded to join the guy on stage one night after a few too many margaritas of her own, and, unbeknown to the detective, Castle had the photographic evidence to prove it. Saved for a rainy day.

Kate dug around in Castle's leather carry-on bag and uttered a triumphant, "_Ha!_" to herself when she finally wrapped her fingers around the elusive article, pulling it free, along with a sturdy conch shell and a pair of Castle's Ray Bans that had got tangled up in the infuriating black cable.

She heard Castle's phone ringing out in the office, and then the sound of running feet before he skidded to a halt next to his desk, sliding across the wooden floor in socked feet.

"Ryan, you old dog," he answered, the warmth of a genuine smile infusing his voice. "What can I do for you this sunny morning?"

"Someone's feeling chipper," replied the young detective. "Good vacation I take it?"

"Best ever!" grinned Castle, to a groan from Ryan and a yell out in the background from Esposito which sounded suspiciously like, "Mention the enormous hot tub again, and I'll kill you with my bare hands, bro."

"So, what can I do for you fine chaps?" asked Castle, ignoring the threat to his life, because nothing was going to ruin his good mood today.

"I'm looking for Beckett. But her phone's off. You didn't leave her in Mexico by any chance?" asked Ryan, sounding braver than usual and more than a little cocky.

"Now, exactly _why_ do you think I would leave Detective Beckett in Mexico, Ryan?" asked Castle, raising his voice so that Kate could hear from her position on the floor, just inside the bedroom door.

Kate stood up with a puzzled grin on her face. She accepted Castle invitation to listen into the call with him, stepping in between the vee of his legs, and wrapping her arms around his waist. She rested her head on his shoulder next to the phone, holding her breath so that Ryan wouldn't know she was there.

"I don't know, bro. A whole week cooped up with Beckett could get kind of…"

"_Kind of what?_" asked Kate sharply, giving herself away.

She tugged the phone out of Castle's hand in indignation.

A loud gulp, accompanied by a fainter snigger and the sound of air being sucked through teeth greeted their ears.

And then the line went dead.

Kate pulled away and looked at Castle in surprise.

"Did Ryan just hang up on me?" she asked indignantly.

Castle laughed, and kissed the tip of her nose before pushing them both up off the corner of the desk.

"I think you might have stopped his heart with that last question. Why don't I call back and see what they want. You keep unpacking. Breakfast's nearly ready. We can still make it in for nine if we keep moving."

"What the hell, Rick? They think you'd leave me there? Why would they think that?" moaned Kate, still staring at the blank screen on Castle's phone. "I've only been gone a couple of weeks and they're disrespecting me already."

"Kate, you're their boss. It goes with the territory. You know that. Don't sweat it, honey. Anyway, the important thing to remember is that I _never_ had any intention of leaving you there…well, except very briefly…after the massage incident," he added wickedly, anticipating the gasp of surprise and the narrow-eyed glare she was now leveling at him.

"You promised you wouldn't mention that again," she said, swatting his chest with her free hand.

He deftly caught her around the wrist before she could do any damage.

"What happens in Cabo, Castle…" she began to warn him.

But he cut her off with the swift, hot pressure of his mouth against hers, hungry, eager lips silencing her protest.

Kate quickly gave in, her body melting against his. She hummed into his mouth, pressing against his lips with her tongue until he opened up for her, giving back as good as she got.

They'd been back less than twelve hours and they still couldn't keep their hands off one another. It really didn't bode well for a long day at the 12th.

"Cheat," she moaned, when they finally pulled apart.

"Is that a complaint, Detective?" smirked Castle, admiring the warm blush he'd managed to put on her cheeks.

Kate eyed him for a minute, considering. But God he was too damn sexy in that white linen shirt that he'd obviously chosen just to show off his tan for the benefit of the guys at the precinct.

"Shut up and come here," she growled, pushing him back against the desk until his thighs hit the furniture and he was forced to sit down hard, so she could slant her mouth back over his, stealing his breath away.

"Kate, Ryan," he finally managed to mumble out while his hands roamed up her back, fingers splayed inside her soft, cotton tee shirt, absorbing the warmth of her skin.

"Dammit, forgot," said Kate, pulling guiltily away. "Remind me why we came home again?" she added, laughing with Castle as they clutched onto one another, catching their breath.

"I have no idea, but how about we start planning our next vacation tonight. What do you say? Mauritius? Maldives? Milan? We've done Mexico, so…Malaysia, Mount St. Helens, Morocco, Missouri?"

Kate looked at him for a moment, wavering, as a little ghost of fear fluttered around her insides. They'd closed one of their biggest ever cases, spent a week at home decompressing, and then a week in Mexico on a beach, living like kings. They hadn't fought once, the entire time, despite spending every waking and sleeping second in each other's company. So why was she hesitating over light-hearted talk about planning another vacation, sometime in the future?

"Kate? Where'd you go?" prompted Castle, a little frown appearing, to worry his forehead.

"Uh, no where. No where…just…good thoughts," she added, patting his chest in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

Dr. Burke, she thought, gesturing to Castle's phone so that she could call Ryan back. Must call Dr. Burke.

* * *

Castle was flipping pancakes over the stove when Kate emerged from his office carrying his phone.

"How's Ryan?" he asked, smiling at the poor guy's misfortune.

"Still breathing…for now," she replied, distractedly.

"What's wrong? You look like someone stole your coffee," he observed, rubbing her arm.

"No…sorry, just…thinking. Got distracted," Kate mumbled, kissing him lightly on the side of the mouth. "We've got a case…it's…" she trailed off, frowning.

"Kate, you're worrying me now. What is it? What's the case?" asked Castle, matching her frown with one of his own.

She sighed. "A baby. It's a baby," she said quietly, meeting Castle's eyes. "Kids, they're the worst. So, look, you don't have to come if…" she added, until he stopped her.

"Shhhh, no. We'll go together, Kate. No arguments. Partners, remember?"

Kate nodded, gratefully.

"Just because we're together doesn't mean I bail on you because a case gets a little tough. Being together should make things easier, for both of us, not harder."

"Thanks," she said, patting his chest with the flat of her hand. "I'll go get dressed. Can you pack some of that to go?" she asked, indicating the pancakes and eggs.

"Sure," he said, opening a cabinet to pull out a couple of plastic containers. "Hey," he called after her as she walked away towards the bedroom.

"Mmm?" asked Kate, turning back to look at him, already lost in thought.

"Love you," he said sincerely.

Kate stood stalk still, her eyes suddenly bright and shiny with the cascade of emotions pushing their way to the surface. Then she blinked and smiled back.

"Me too, Rick. So much," she replied, her face soft and open. "Let's go do this."

* * *

The crime scene was an unusual one, located one story up on the Highline Park; the elevated green space The City had created out of the old, freight rail line that ran from Gansevoort Street, in the Meatpacking District, to West 34th Street, along Manhattan's West Side.

Castle held up the police tape to allow Kate to pass underneath once she had flashed her badge for the young, female Uniform guarding the scene, and then he ducked under after her.

Kate's heels rang out as they struck the dark green treads of the metal staircase that provided access to The Highline from street level. The noise bounced and echoed loudly off the structure; like a ball-peen hammer striking an anvil.

The staircase vibrated under the rhythm of their combined footfalls when Castle began to climb the stairs behind her, looking about as eager as his partner to see whatever it was that Lanie had to show them on this hot, late August morning.

The dumpsite was a clump of ornamental grasses, or reeds, Kate wasn't sure which, that had been planted alongside the wooden boardwalk at the Gansevoort end of the trail, between 10th and 11th Avenues.

A small, artificial stream ran close by, bubbling down a length of grey granite, the sound soothing, and incongruously bucolic, here in the heart of the city.

Silver-grey benches, perhaps made of weathered birch wood, sat on the opposite side of the walkway, built into the body of the structure. They were large and designed to allow a couple of people to recline fully, side-by-side, facing the Hudson and the setting sun.

On any other day, it would have been an idyllic, urban oasis.

Up ahead, a red brick office building arched over the Highline Park's walkway, allowing visitors to pass directly beneath it to carry on up the trail, heading north. A large brick warehouse stood guard across the street, on 10th Avenue, widows peppering the outer walls of the top nine stories. This meant that the dumpsite was overlooked on two sides. So someone had to have seen something, thought Kate, walking up to her friend with a warm smile on her face.

* * *

"Hey, Lanie. What have you got for us?" she asked, flicking her eyes down towards the little bundle laid out in front of her, wrapped up in something white.

"Hi, Kate. Castle," said the M.E., greeting her friends warmly. "You guys look well. Good vacation, obviously, and later, I wanna hear _all_ about it," she said, aiming a suggestive look at Kate. "But for right now, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to bring you back to earth with a bump. Because we got ourselves a preemie," she said, opening up the white, cotton blanket to reveal the small, but perfectly formed face of a premature baby.

Kate and Castle stared wordlessly at the tiny infant, tired eyes taking everything in, rooted there in silence.

The baby looked perfect; pale and a little bloodless, but with eyes closed, it looked just as if it were sleeping, dreaming peacefully. Dark lashes rested against the swell of the baby's cheeks, which were coated in a fine, downy fluff. Two tiny nostrils punctuated the center of the face. A soft pink bud of a mouth curled out above the arch of a sharp, pointed, little chin. The child had character, even in death.

Kate cleared her throat.

"Abandoned? Are we thinking teen mom?" she asked.

"Definitely abandoned, and I'd say the child had been dead a few hours too, judging by liver temp. Though it's hard to be precise given the ambient temperature last night. But there's something a little more unusual about this one," said Lanie, opening the blanket up further with blue gloved fingers to let them see inside.

Kate inhaled sharply, a hand coming up to cover her mouth while she momentarily closed her eyes, trying to push the image out of her head.

Castle lasted thirty seconds, and then he turned and walked away when the soft cotton fell aside to reveal the rest of the body.

Whereas the head and face had been cleaned off after birth, the body was streaked with blood, dried amniotic fluid and the remains of a creamy coating of vernix. The umbilical cord had been crudely tied off with rough, brown twine and had been left longer than normal. A couple of inches lay flaccid across the baby's stomach, pointing east like a withered finger.

But that wasn't the worst of it, because when Lanie opened the blanket up fully, they were met with the shocking sight of three, cyanotic, pale blue, spindly legs, where there should only have been two. And fifteen tiny toes.

"Birth defect," muttered Kate. "Wait, so do you think…did someone murder this baby because he was born with an extra leg?"

Lanie shrugged, and gently wrapped the infant back up in the blanket, before motioning for her assistant to bring over a miniscule, white, plastic body bag. He zipped the baby up inside, blanket and all, and then carried the almost weightless burden away to the waiting black van.

* * *

Lanie stood up stiffly and then walked over to join Kate by the parapet that looked down over Gansevoort Street. They stood silently for a few minutes, just watching the city pass by down below. Yellow cabs bounced over the undulating roadway, chassis creaking and complaining as they navigated the sunken, cracked cobbles. Members of the fashion pack teetered, long-limbed like giraffes, along the sidewalk, shiny hair swinging as they headed to brunch, probably served with a large side of gossip, at Pastis. The world carried on below them, oblivious to the tragedy unfolding up above.

"That defect would have been treatable, right?" asked Kate, sounding wounded and furious. "I mean they separate whole babies joined at the head or the spine, babies that share hearts, or livers. This had got to be _easier_…just an extra limb?"

Lanie dropped a hand to Kate's back, and when she spoke her voice sounded tired. "We don't have a C.O.D. yet, Kate. That baby could have died from natural causes, or as a result of trauma during childbirth. Judging by size alone, I'd say he looks at least four weeks premature. So we don't know that this is fowl play. Not yet. Sure, the circumstances - left out here in the open - are suspicious. I'll grant you that. But, give me a day and I'll be able to tell you more. Okay?" she added gently.

"Fine. I just…" Kate sighed, at a loss for words.

"Kids are the hardest, right? We all feel the same way, Kate. How's Castle holding up?" she asked, scanning around for signs of the normally ebullient writer.

"I…I'm not even sure where he went. I should probably…" she said, turning her head from side-to-side, looking for her partner.

"Go. Go find him. I'll call you later."

"Save the blanket, won't you," reminded Kate, "for trace."

"I'll get it straight over to CSU as soon as we get the body back to the morgue. Don't worry."

Kate nodded her thanks and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Kate?" her friend called after her. "It's great to have you back, sweetie. Being in love obviously suits you. You're glowing, girlfriend."

"Thanks," she replied humbly, throwing Lanie a little wave.

* * *

Kate spotted Castle standing beneath the shadow of the office building, his white linen shirt shining like a landing beacon on an airstrip.

As she walked towards him, Kate's eyes were drawn upwards to a large, black and white billboard, which extended across the side of the building. The super-sized vinyl display advertised an expensive brand of men's cologne. A muscular, naked, male model reclined on some faraway beach, complete with crashing surf and strategically placed fragrance bottle protecting his 'modesty'. The advert seemed suddenly crass and distasteful to Kate, hovering over this particular corner of the city. She shivered despite the superheated air.

"Hey," she said, walking out of the sunlight and into the shadows beneath the office block, where Castle was pacing back and forth.

"Hey," he offered back. "Sorry about…"

Castle shrugged his shoulders, palms outstretched.

"Don't be. Lanie, me, the guys…we all struggle with cases like this, Rick. There's nothing as heartbreaking and senseless as the death of an innocent child. So, please, don't be sorry. You okay?"

"Will be. Just needed some…air," he sighed, indicating the open space all around them, suddenly realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

"Find anything?" he asked hopefully, trying to raise his game.

"What, like a note with a confession on it?" asked Kate, dryly. "No, nothing so obvious. I've got Ryan checking the site and the street below for security cameras. Espo's liaising with someone from Friends of the Highline - the conservancy that funds and runs the park. He's getting details of the opening hours, access points, any reports of suspicious behavior and the names of all the staff who work here. The public passes through here everyday, Castle. Over a hundred windows overlook the crime scene. Someone must have seen something," she mused.

"Kate, I don't need to remind _you_ that this is New York City. Women get raped on the subway in full view of a crowd of strangers, and no one _sees_ anything. So don't get your hopes up," he counselled.

"Hey, this isn't like you," she said softly. "You're the guy who says we can move that rubber tree plant. Remember? Do you want to sit this one out? Get some writing done? You never opened your laptop once when we were in Cabo."

"No, but I _did_ do a lot of in depth, up close and personal research for the next Nikki Heat," he replied, curling his fingers discreetly around Kate's wrist, feathering her pulse point with the soft caress of his thumb.

"You mean you were working that whole time, when we were…_you know_?" teased Kate, grateful to see Castle looking less somber, a wicked twinkle back in his eye.

"Didn't feel like work. Not one second of it, Kate," he said, shaking his head, a wistful smile appearing on his lips as some pleasant memory filled up his brain. "And I'll be fine. Let's get to work."

Kate briefed CSU, while Castle wandered the perimeter, pausing occasionally to take photographs on his phone.

"Does something about this site seem odd to you?" he asked, when Kate came over to find him to tell him she was ready to go.

"Odd? In what way?" she asked, happy to listen to Castle's slightly off-beat, unique view of the world, since it had proved fruitful more times that she cared to count.

"Just…I don't know. _Familiar_, maybe? Like in a dream."

"Well, if it's one of _your_ dreams, Castle. I'm not so sure I _want_ to know," she joked.

"Hmm," he said pensively, staring again at the reeds as they swayed in the sultry, stultifying air, before shaking his head to clear whatever images were lingering there.

"Ready to go?" asked Kate, drawing him back to the present.

"Sure, if you've got what you need?"

"I've got everything I need," said Kate confidently, squeezing his forearm once, before turning toward the exit and the dark green metal staircase.

_Note: Chapter title – 'And Death Shall Have No Dominion', borrowed from the poem of the same name by Dylan Thomas._


	2. Chapter 2 Frame of Reference

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 2 – Frame of Reference_

Kate's desk had evidently become something of a dumping ground while she'd been away on vacation. Stacks of files, most awaiting transfer to Records, were piled up in rows across the surface. A light coating of dust had settled on her parade of elephants, and a whitish ring, that looked suspiciously like a milky coffee stain, graced one corner.

"Espo, get these moved downstairs, would you?" she said, indicating the tower of paperwork. "And can you find Castle's chair?" she asked, scanning around the bullpen for her partner's usual perch. "_Before_ he comes back and finds it gone. He'll think you guys don't love him anymore."

Esposito laughed at Kate's observation and replied, "Yes, boss."

Then she went off to the break room for her second coffee of the day.

Castle was already in there, deftly operating the espresso machine as if he'd never been away. Well, all except for the sinfully dark tan he was sporting. Kate slid a hand over the back of his jeans, briefly squeezing the curve of his ass while she leaned across in front of him to reach the cup of coffee he'd already prepared for her.

Castle abruptly stopped what he was doing, his fingers frozen in the middle of tamping down a little mound of ground coffee beans. He sent her a shocked look, that quickly turned to delight and had him instantly moving towards her.

"Eh, down boy," said Kate, holding him at arms length with a firm hand pressed to his the chest.

"But, you just…" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah, well. _I_ couldn't help myself," she said in a burst of honesty. "Those jeans fit just too damn well, Castle."

"And I'm _what_? Supposed to keep my hands to myself, Kate, when I can practically see your tan lines through that shirt? It's virtually sheer," he whined.

"Got it in one, partner," she replied, winking at him before spinning on her heel to head back out to the bullpen, swinging her hips for good measure.

She heard Castle groan, and a wicked smile tugged at her lips.

* * *

Kate placed her coffee cup down on the edge of her desk to roll the murder board out across the floor. It had been relegated to the corner at the end of the last case the boys had closed while she and Castle had been away on vacation. It seemed they hadn't missed much action after all.

Someone had drawn a series of hangmen and smiley faces on the white, shiny surface. Kate quickly erased the crude artwork to begin afresh with a blank slate.

"Sorry, my nephew came to visit. He got a little bored," explained Ryan, indicating the little stick figures.

Kate nodded distractedly, and uncapped a black marker, her mind already preoccupied with the new case.

She wrote up the rudimentary details they'd gathered from the crime scene that morning: the date, time and the location where the body had been found, and the personal details of the concerned citizen who had called it in. Under the heading 'Baby Doe' she added the sex, approximate age, time of death, and some physical descriptors relating to the infant.

Castle sat down in his chair to watch her, and then he pulled out his phone and began tapping the screen.

"Angry Birds?" asked Kate absentmindedly, as she sipped her coffee and looked over the scant information they'd managed to gather so far.

A printer whirred to life across the room, and Castle rose from his chair to collect several sheets from the grey plastic output tray.

"_No_," he replied, a little indignantly, handing Kate the small stack of printouts. "Crime scene photos, actually."

Kate looked up from the photographs, surprised.

"These are great, Castle. Thanks. Why don't you pin them up," she suggested, handing them back to him and indicating the container of magnetic clips on her desk.

The writer proudly added his photographs of the High Line Park crime scene to the bottom edge of the murder board and then stepped back to admire his work.

Ryan and Esposito gathered round the board, joining Castle and Kate with notepads in hand.

"Any luck on the security cameras, Ryan?" asked Kate.

"There's one under the bridge, at the Gansevoort entrance. I'm arranging a dump with Parks and Rec."

"Nothing up top?" asked Kate, a little surprised.

"No. Checked the building that runs over the site and there's nothing on that one, even underneath the bridging section. The high rise across the street doesn't have any at that height either."

"What about at street level? We don't know which direction the perp or perps came from."

"I'll have a look when Espo and I go back to check-up on the canvas."

"Espo, how'd you get on with the conservancy?" asked Kate."

"Pretty helpful. They're worried about the story getting out. Don't want to scare off any potential donors or volunteers, I guess."

"Or have more nut jobs think about using the High Line as a dump site in the future, I'll bet," said Castle.

"They gave me a basic background. Opening hours are 7am until 10pm daily. The whole thing runs for 1.45 miles, from Gansevoort Street to West 34th Street, and there are nine access points dotted along the length of it, so our perp could have come up top at any one of those entrances."

"Right, well let's start by checking the cameras nearest to the Gansevoort end and the 14th entrance, since they're the most likely entry and exit points," instructed Kate. "If you're carrying an obvious bundle like that and planning on leaving it out in the open, then you'd want as quick a getaway as possible. We should probably look at Mass Transit too; bus cameras, subway…"

"The nearest subway station is at 14th and 8th," said Esposito, checking a wall-mounted MTA map.

"Make sure we cover all of the platforms when you get access to the Transit Authority security video," said Kate. "The A,C,E and L trains run through that station, so our guy could have been going practically anywhere if he chose that route away from the scene."

She tapped the marker against her chin thoughtfully, and then went to sit at her desk.

"Right. Let's run what we have so far. This was a male infant, which Lanie estimates to be around four weeks premature. That would make date of conception around…"

"Late November last year," offered Castle, quick as a flash.

"Thank you, to our resident math genius," teased Kate, smiling at Castle. "So we're looking for a woman who'd have been heavily pregnant, near her due date, and who has now given birth, but has no baby to show for it."

"Wasn't a hospital birth, judging by the crude removal of the umbilical cord, and the twine used to tie it off," observed Ryan.

"So…home birth, then," said Castle. "Which would mean no drugs and a lot of noise."

"Neighbors?" suggested Ryan.

"Yeah, get a message out to all patrol units. I want to hear about any noise complaints filed over the last twelve to eighteen hours. Specifically reports of excessive noise involving prolonged screaming or moaning. And if we can tie that to any sightings of a pregnant woman in the same neighborhood, then so much the better."

"You don't ask for much," joked Ryan. "I'll pass it on to Central."

"Until Lanie can give us the results of the autopsy, we still don't know if we're dealing with an actual homicide or simply the concealment of a birth and the illegal disposal of human remains," reminded Kate.

"What about hospitals or clinics?" suggested Ryan.

"The mother may be been registered with an OB/GYN, especially given the…uh, unique, high risk nature of this pregnancy. But since the baby wasn't due for another four weeks, it might take a week or so for a missed appointment to show up."

"What about other physical evidence?" asked Castle. "There's the blanket the baby was wrapped in and the twine tying off the cord."

"CSU has both of those. We won't get prints, unless they can pull some off the baby's skin and that's always a long shot. But we could get trace or epithelials from the twine. It looked rough enough, so there's a chance of finding something there. If we get a hair or a fiber off the blanket we'll be really lucky. Lanie's going to run the baby's DNA through the system; check it against the Missing Person's database to see if we can find a familial match."

"You think this is maybe a runaway?" asked Castle.

"I don't know. But given the condition of the body, I'd say we're looking for one scared, distraught woman or girl. Possibly even mentally disturbed, given what they've just gone through – the premature labor, the deformity – which they may or may not have know about before hand. There was no placenta or blood found at the scene, so we can be reasonably certain that the delivery took place elsewhere. I'll call round the hospitals to check for any emergency admissions involving post-partum bleeding or infection," suggested Kate, as Castle studied his shoes to get the image of the dead baby out of his mind.

He wanted to go home and hug Alexis, but he also wanted to help Kate. So he pushed his personal feelings aside and offered to help make a start on those calls.

* * *

"Tell her to be quiet," hissed the dark haired man, pacing the floor of the wooden cabin for the hundredth time.

"She needs help. Proper medical help," said the young man, plaintively. "The bleeding won't stop and she's getting weaker."

The young woman lay back against the mattress, her knees drawn up towards her still swollen belly. Beads of sweat glistened on her pale skin as her eyes drifted closed.

"It'll stop. It has to. We just have to wait a bit longer. Besides, I don't trust doctors – interfering busybodies. Childbirth is natural. She'll heal by herself. You'll see. She's one of the chosen ones," he said with absolute conviction.

"_Stop saying that_. Her baby wasn't one of the chosen ones. She has a fever. _Please?_ She needs help or she's going to die."

"That's not ours to decide."

"No? Well you decided for that innocent baby."

"That child was an abomination."

"He was breathing. You didn't have to…"

They were interrupted by a fresh round of tortured moans rising up from the bed between them.

The sharp, acidic smell of freshly cut pine mingled with the lemony scent of cheap, anti-bacterial cleaning fluid. Michael felt nauseous, but he forced himself to focus on Caitlin. He dropped to the bed beside her, stroking her hair in a vain effort to soothe the pain away.

"Michael, help me?" she whispered, her cheeks burning, flushed pink, her eyes two bright pleading pools of blue.

Her hands grasped at the cotton sheets; long, pale fingers anchoring her to the bed with fistfuls of the plain white fabric.

He looked up furiously at the man standing above them.

"_Please?_ Can't you see you're _killing her_," begged Michael.

"That's not ours to decide. I already told you," repeated the man, abruptly leaving the room and closing the sturdy door behind him.

The lock turned with a loud, solid click, leaving them alone again.

Michael looked back down at the bed helplessly. Then he soaked a flannel in cold water once more, squeezed it out, and gently placed it across her feverish forehead.

Caitlin's moans were getting less frequent, and he prayed that wasn't a sign she was getting weaker.

The wind blew outside, whipping round the nooks and crannies of the building. It was going to be another long night.


	3. Chapter 3 Give Up Your Secrets

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

**Warning – This chapter includes Baby Doe's autopsy. Never fear, there's Casketty fluff too.**

_Chapter 3 – Give Up Your Secrets_

They broke for lunch just after 3pm. Which was far later than Castle would have liked, but if Kate was willing to stop for lunch at all, then he'd scored a small victory.

"Remy's? Or somewhere different?" he asked, leaving the decision up to Kate in the hope that she would continue to eat as well and as regularly as she had on vacation.

It had been totally out of character, the way Kate had relaxed completely the minute they'd boarded their flight to Mexico, and then proceeded to allow Castle to take care of her in Cabo. But, he wasn't complaining, because it had given him more pleasure than he ever thought possible; just to make sure that she slept late, ate well, and lay still long enough for him to show her just why they were meant to be together. As if she needed reminding. And when it came down to it, Richard Castle really knew food…and a few other things besides.

"Lets walk for a bit," suggested Kate, tugging on Castle's arm. "We can get something on the way."

It was such a beautiful, bright, sunny day. The streets were filled with the busy, purposeful, post-lunch crowd. Battalions of preoccupied people rushing here and there; to meetings, school pick-ups, play dates, mani-pedi appointments, elicit affairs in out-of-the-way hotels, and it made progress slow, though neither of them minded.

Kate had linked her arm through Castle's as soon as they left the precinct, and he squeezed her hand in pleasant surprise, falling in step beside her. They hadn't really discussed how things were going to go once they came back to the city; whether or not they had to approach Captain Gates for a cozy little chat about what might be acceptable in the workplace now that they were in a relationship. Kate secretly feared that this new development might signal the end for Castle, once and for all. That fessing up might just give Victoria "Iron" Gates all the ammunition she would ever need to throw her partner off the team. So for now, they kept quiet by tacit agreement, trying to keep things professional within the confines of the 12th. They'd managed fairly well that morning, unless you counted Kate's slip-up in the break room.

But being good at the precinct, that didn't mean…no, it most certainly did not, thought Kate, drawing Castle across the street and into a leafy, little, green square off 6th Avenue on the spur of the moment.

"Kate?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and a complicit smile at her. "Where are we…?"

His body was thrumming with the nearness of her as they'd walked down the street, their sides brushing, his bicep making regular and repeated contact with her left breast. It was intoxicating. _She_ was intoxicating.

"Just…taking a little detour," she said, looking up at him through those long, dark lashes, a playful expression in her eyes.

"Uh huh. A detour?" he repeated, rather liking the direction this might be going.

"That's what I said, Castle. You in a hurry to get somewhere?" she teased.

"No. I'm entirely at your disposal," he grinned back, as she tugged him round a corner to a little wooden bench set back from the path between two trees. "What did you have in mind, Detective?"

"Sit," she ordered, pressing down on his shoulders.

The linen of his shirt was warm and crisp under her fingers as he gave in easily and sank down onto the bench.

Kate stepped in between his thighs and then pivoted so that she could sit down in his lap, sliding her arms up around his neck as she did so.

Castle was startled, startled and delighted by all of it. The moves this woman could conjure up out of thin air, and in the most mundane of places. His mind flitted back to the car ride from Cabo San Lucas International Airport to their resort…_oh jeez Kate_. She'd driven him right to the edge on _that_ journey. He'd missed all of the scenery – like he cared if she was willing to do _that_ to him in the back of the resort's chauffeur driven car.

Kate shifted in his lap and Castle refocused his attention, settling his hands at her waist to balance her there.

The sun shone hotly down on them, picking out the blond highlights Kate had gained while on vacation. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. Her tan arms and chest stood out against the sharp whiteness of her silk shirt.

She leaned down and put her lips to his ear, darting her tongue out to tease him.

"Kate," he moaned, his fingers flexing on her sides.

"Mmm hmm?" she muttered back, moving her lips down his neck towards the soft, tender skin beneath his open collar, tasting the salty tang on her tongue.

One of her hands had left his neck and was running riot up and down his spine; firing off sparks of electricity through his muscles, along the surface of his skin and down into his groin.

"Kate. Honey, you're killing me here," he mumbled, making no effort whatsoever to stop her.

"Don't be a baby," she growled in his ear, nipping on the lobe with her sharp, white teeth.

His back arched with the short, sharp shock of pain, and something buzzed through him once more. He decided to regain a little control, so he pulled her away from his neck with a hand to her jaw, and captured her lips with his mouth instead, drawing her flush against his chest with an arm tightly wrapped around her torso, holding her firmly against him.

Kate moaned in surprise and delight, giving in immediately; her body pressed up against his, overcome with need. Castle deepened the kiss, his tongue urgently probing the inside of her mouth, driving them both crazy. They clung to one another, rocking back and forth on the bench, having completely forgotten their surroundings.

Kate's cell phone buzzed in her pants pocket. The vibration startled them both, reverberating up and down their joined thighs, tingling the already sensitive surface of their skin.

Castle let out a groan of complaint when Kate stood to dig it out of her pocket. She steadied herself with a hand to his shoulder, while Castle rested his fingers against her waist, gently stroking her sides with his thumbs until Kate could stand the sweet torture no longer and she twisted away out of his grasp, sending him a hot look as compensation for his loss.

"Hey, Lanie," he heard Kate say. Then, "What, already? That was fast. Okay, we'll be right over."

When she got off the phone she held out a hand to Castle and pulled him up off the bench.

"That was Lanie. She rushed our autopsy to the top of the list. She's ready to walk us through her findings for Baby Doe. We can grab a bite to eat on the way, and we are _definitely_ tabling the rest of _that_ discussion for later," she promised him, taking his hand as they began the short walk back.

* * *

The morgue at the Medical Examiner's Office was blissfully cool after the heat of an August afternoon on a New York City sidewalk. But Kate shivered when her brain supplied the reason for the change in temperature down there, and she tugged her light jacket closer around her.

A large silver drawer had been pulled out from the wall, and the door laid ajar, hasp open. Lanie was waiting for them before one of the stainless steel autopsy tables, her white rubber apron lightly smeared with blood. But thankfully, given that they'd just eaten, she'd had the foresight to change into fresh pair of latex gloves.

"Hey, Lanie. Thanks for rushing this through," said Kate. "There was so little to go on at the crime scene. The body's really our only viable piece of evidence on this one. Whatcha find?" she asked.

"Okay, so we got ourselves a male child, Caucasian, and I'm estimating gestational age at around 35 weeks, give or take a few days. Aside from the obvious birth defect, he appeared to be in fairly good condition on first inspection, and was born well after the viability cutoff for a fetus."

"So he could have survived outside the womb?" asked Kate.

"Yes. There was no maceration, so we can be confident that he didn't die in utero," continued Lanie.

"In English?" asked Castle, narrowly beating Kate to it.

"We'd expect to see skin slippage after about twelve hours, if the baby was stillborn and took some time to deliver," Lanie explained.

Castle wrinkled his nose at the M.E.'s reply.

"So, that's on the outside. You said on first inspection. There's something else though, right?" asked Kate eagerly, sensing that Lanie had more to tell them.

"_Oh yeah_. When I completed the external exam I found signs of…actually, it's maybe easier if we move to the autopsy findings first," said Lanie, picking up her chart. "His heart was slightly enlarged, although it's hard to tell if that was a congenital condition, or as a result of ultimate cause of death."

"So, the enlarged heart didn't kill him?" asked Kate.

"No, I…no, definitely not," she shook her head and then continued. "His lungs were slightly underdeveloped, and that's to be expected, given his prematurity. But, this child definitely drew breath after birth.

"How can you tell?" asked Castle.

"_Well_," Lanie said slowly, looking at Kate to see if she was happy for her to continue with a detailed explanation, given Castle's disappearing act at the crime scene.

Kate nodded.

"If a breath has been taken after birth, the chest expands to form a drum shape. Before respiration takes place it's flat and the circumference is less. Also, there are permanent changes that take place inside the lungs. Fully inflated lungs fill the plural cavities inside the chest from edge-to-edge, the tissue consistency becomes soft and spongy, and the color becomes light red and mottled. Also, when I performed the hydrostatic test, the lungs floated when I placed them in water. I also got copious amounts of frothy blood when I sectioned them - another good, clear indicator of respiration."

Lanie took one look at Castle's slightly pale complexion and shrugged. "Well, you _did _ask," she added, though not unkindly.

"So you're ruling this a homicide?" asked Kate.

"Yes, definitely. I have no doubt that this _is_ a homicide, Kate. In addition to the physiological signs, I found white fibers, consistent with the fabric of the cotton blanket he was wrapped in, trapped inside the baby's nose and thorax, and there are some signs of petechiae in the nasal cavity and in the eyelids and conjunctivae. The lips are bruised on the inside and the external skin around the nose and mouth is pale, as a result of the pressure applied to smother him. This slight blue tinge to the rest of the head and body is cyanosis as a result of oxygen starvation. That would result partly from the tachypnea caused by the enlarged heart, and partly from the effects of smothering."

Kate paced away from the autopsy table and back again. Her gloved fingers came to rest on the edge of the stainless steel surface and she squeezed hard. Her knuckles turned white with the pressure as she stared down at the tiny body of the dead child lying in front of them.

"How long?" she asked quietly, steeling herself for Lanie's answer.

"Anything between one and three minutes. He was too weak to struggle for long, Kate. The cardiac hypertrophy would have elevated his heart rate anyway as his body fought to circulate oxygenated blood around his system. So definitely not long. But, still not a good way to go."

"And you collected DNA, right? Sent it off for comparison against the database."

"Yes. If there's a familial match, we'll find it. We're checking it against Missing Person's too. It's easier to match mitochondrial DNA, and in this case the condition of the mother is a real concern. Given what we've seen here, indicators are she could be bleeding heavily or have numerous other complications that triggered the preterm labor – placental abruption, preeclampsia, low blood sugar as a result of gestational diabetes, you name it. And if she ruptured her membranes some place insanitary, or she failed to fully expel the placenta afterwards, there's a strong risk of infection. Not to mention the trauma she's just been through, and the fact that she or someone else just killed her baby. So, you really _do_ have to find her as a matter of urgency, Kate."

* * *

"Are you okay?" asked Kate, as they left the M.E.'s office. "You looked kind of pale in there."

"Autopsy lighting – so unflattering," quipped Castle, covering his discomfort.

"_Rick_," said Kate, tugging at his elbow.

"Let's just say I'm glad we ate before we went in. Because I've suddenly lost my appetite."

"That was hard to hear. But at least we know what we're dealing with now. I'll call the boys. Fill them in. We can make a start running down any fresh missing person reports and carry on with the hospital ring round. You heard Lanie. Our primary goal just switched to finding that mother. You good to stay on for a while?"

"I'll be here as long as you are, partner," reassured Castle.

"Great. Cause I could really use a coffee," teased Kate, bumping him with her shoulder and managing to raise a smile on Castle's somber face.

* * *

The ground was cool and damp, there in the shade. Dark green moss and pale blue lichen covered the loamy earth and the bark of nearby trees. The spot he'd chosen was idyllic; an emerald green oasis on the crest of a hill, as high as he dared go without attracting attention. Sunlight fell in golden shafts through the breaks in the trees, mottling the ground beneath. The hum of city traffic seemed as distant and as faint as the organic melody of a beehive.

He dug for nearly an hour, shifting the soft, rich earth with the sharp blade of the shovel, after loosening it off with an old, battered pick. The wooden handles burned his palms, turning them red and shiny in parts. Blisters weren't far away.

When the hole seemed long enough, though not to standard gravedigger depths, he dragged the body to the edge and lowered it in. He stepped up to the head and adjusted the white shroud. Then he tugged on the feet, straightening the whole body out so it looked as perfect as he could make it. He climbed out onto the side and paused for a minute, listening to the birds singing as he composed a brief prayer. Then he threw some dirt onto the body and began covering it up, adding a loose scattering of dead leaves for effect.

"Sleep well," he whispered, before gathering up his tools and walking away.

_**Thoughts? Promise it won't all be this dark! **_


	4. Chapter 4 Don't Make Me Twist Your Ear

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

**Fun and fluff all the way in this chapter.**

_Chapter 4 – Don't Make Me Twist Your Ear_

"No post-partum admissions at all? You're sure?" asked Kate for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

She sighed as she replaced the handset and sat up straighter in her chair, arching her back to release the tension that was threatening to cramp up her muscles.

"Help you with that?" asked Castle, appearing behind her with a fresh cup of coffee.

He let his hands fall to her shoulders, and Kate felt herself relax instantly under the warm pressure of his fingers. But she lasted only a couple of seconds before she swiveled in her chair, and then twisted out of his grasp with a tortured moan.

"Sorry, but Gates is still in there, and I'm convinced she's retrofitted her office with special, high tech, see-through blinds," she added with a low, conspiratorial whisper.

Castle laughed at the melodramatic edge to her little theory…and then caught himself with a sharp inhale.

"Oh my god, you're turning into me!" he declared, eyes dancing with barely contained delight.

"Am _not!_" countered Kate, in horror. "Am _I_?" she asked uncertainly. "Ryan, am I turning into Castle?" she asked, rendering the young detective speechless and too afraid of her reaction to whatever response he might summon up to even attempt a reply.

"Ryan?" Kate prompted.

"Definitely not," he stumbled out, crossing his fingers behind his back and scrunching up his eyes in hope that this was the right answer.

"_See!_" declared Kate triumphantly, "Ryan doesn't think so."

"Ryan's too scared to tell you _what_ he thinks," said Castle, glaring at the Irish detective.

"_Am not_," said Ryan defensively.

"Oh shut up. Castle's right, bro. You're whipped all round; at work _and_ at home," threw in Esposito, deciding to enter the argument.

"Javi'll give it to me straight," piped up Kate. "Won't you Javi? Am I turning into Castle?"

Esposito's head shot up, and a look of pure fear filled his eyes. He realised too late that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"I think I hear Captain Gates calling me," he lied, rising from his chair and quickly hurrying away.

Kate stared after him, dumbfounded.

"He's not…?" she asked Castle, looking a little bewildered.

"_What_? More scared of _you_ than old Iron Gates?" asked Castle, laughing at Kate's shocked expression until…

"Mr. Castle? My office. _Now!_" roared Gates, making Castle physically jump in his seat.

He rose slowly, and Kate watched wide-eyed as his Adam's apple bobbed violently up and down in his throat.

"Guess you were right about those blinds, Beckett," said Ryan, watching Castle's retreating back with a shake of his head to the accompanying doom-laden strains of "Dum, dum, dee, dum…"

* * *

"What did Gates want?" asked Esposito eagerly, when Castle finally emerged from her office.

Ryan and Kate leant forward in their chairs, awaiting his reply. Kate's heart was hammering, anticipating the fatal news that her boss had somehow found out about their relationship (she knew that naughty Mexican postcard Castle had insisted on sending the boys had been a bad idea), and now he'd been kicked to the curb; banished from the 12th, forever.

Castle looked at all of them individually, his expression grave. He paused for a beat to heighten the tension, and then raised his fingers to his lips, miming a 'lock up and throw away the key' maneuver, before striding off to the men's room, whistling merrily, and leaving them all speechless.

* * *

"Did he just…?" asked Esposito, sounding barely this side of furious.

"Dude punked our asses," added Ryan in disgust.

"No. No, he just _broke_ the code, is what _he_ did," growled Esposito.

Kate sat serenely quiet for a second or two, watching the boys deal in righteous indignation, a slow smile spreading across her face. When she could stand it no longer, she got up from her desk and sauntered as nonchalantly as she could manage out into the hallway.

When Castle exited the men's room, humming chirpily to himself, Kate was leaning against the wall waiting for him. She caught hold of his lapel as he passed by and spun him in a half circle, so he finished up with his back plastered to the wall. A satisfying "oomph" escaped his lips as he hit the tiled surface. Hard.

"Ahhh. _Kate?_" he moaned in confusion, rubbing the back of his head.

"_Spill!_" she commanded, entirely too unsympathetic for Castle's liking.

"Spill? Spill _what?_" he asked innocently, intent on keeping his secret a little longer evidently.

Kate opened and closed her mouth like a guppy, unprepared for his stalling tactics once she'd manhandled him a little. He usually caved at the first sign of violence.

Once she regrouped, Kate changed tack.

"Just wanted to let you know that I'm heading home soon," she informed him, nodding, her face an inscrutable mask.

"_Alone!_" she added with some force, taking great delight in watching the smile of arousal, that '_heading home_' had come to generate these days, drop right off his face.

"Awww, Kate. No, wait," he pleaded, running to catch up with her as she hurried back towards her desk, silently counting to herself. 'One elephant, two elephants, thr…'

Castle caved before the herd had reached three in number.

"Okay, look I'll tell you," he said, sighing. "But Gates swore me to secrecy. So you _have_ to promise not to tell the guys."

Kate looked at him as if he'd just grown a second head.

"Gates is sharing secrets. With _you_?" she asked, unable to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

"And what's so unbelievable about that?" asked Castle, clearly affronted by what she was implying.

"Eh…nothing," said Kate, a little unconvincingly. "Just…you're not usually her favorite person," she added truthfully.

"I told you I'd wear her down. You just wouldn't listen," he moaned, like a five year old who'd just convinced his disbelieving mother that he wasn't the one who'd emptied the cookie jar, once his brother showed up like Exhibit A, covered in chocolate and crumbs.

"Wear _her_ down?" asked Kate, with a snort and a jab of her head towards the Captain's office.

"Well, it worked on you, didn't it?" blurted Castle, earning himself a glare from Kate that didn't bode well for bedtime tonight.

"The secret, Castle?" she asked again, hands on her hips this time, foot tapping impatiently.

"Okay. But, come closer," he instructed, moving back against the wall.

Kate looked at him dubiously, as if this might be a trap. But then curiosity got the better of her and she moved a little nearer, closing the distance between them.

"You want me to have to stage whisper so _everyone _can hear, detective?" he asked her, motioning for her to get even closer to him.

"Fine," she huffed, giving in and leaning back against the wall beside him, so that their shoulders were brushing. "But make it quick," she added, eyes darting furtively to the side. "I'm sure the woman has supersonic hearing as well."

"And there it is again…you are _so_ turning into me," he crowed gleefully.

"_Secret_," hissed Kate, "or you go home alone, Rick."

Castle sighed, and then paused, to allow time for the imaginary drum roll taking place in his head apparently, before going ahead with the big reveal, which he whispered in Kate's ear.

If he'd added jazz hands to the moment and a peppy little _'ta da!_' Kate wouldn't even have blinked, because he looked so darn pleased with himself.

"You _do_ know that she's just using you?" she asked archly, before she turned and headed back to her desk, trying desperately hard to choke down the peel of laughter that was building in her chest. When she chanced a quick glance back round, Castle was slumped against the wall, looking utterly deflated.

Fifteen minutes passed in which Kate made several more phone calls, and Ryan and Esposito sent wounded, accusatory glares at Castle, while the writer sat slumped in his chair like a man who'd just found a nickel and then lost a dime.

Kate finally took pity on him. She grabbed her yellow Post-It pad and penned him a quick, racy note, tearing it off and sliding it across the desk to him.

He picked up the piece of paper with little enthusiasm and unfolded it. His lips moved as he read what she'd written, and then his head snapped up in surprise, a pitifully hopeful smile blossoming on his face.

"_Really?_" he asked, grinning at her.

"Yeah, come on," nodded Kate indulgently, mirroring his smile. "But hurry up before I change my mind," she added, gathering her things.

Castle tumbled all over himself to get out of the chair and pull his jacket on so fast that she couldn't possibly have a chance to.

And if he'd thought about it for even a second, he would have realized that there was no way Kate Beckett would ever change her mind about _that_. Not anymore.

_A/N: Okay, so that was just a little fluffy interlude to keep you going before I plunge us back into the dark depths of the story. Hope you enjoyed. Any thoughts?_


	5. Chapter 5 Into The Woods We Go

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

**The title of this chapter was borrowed from Ep4x17 "Once Upon a Crime"**

* * *

_Chapter 5 – Into The Woods We Go_

The call came in at 5.45am, dragging Kate up out of a deep sleep and away from the most beautiful dream. She was floating on the surface of a turquoise ocean, pale white sand shimmering in the crystal clear waters beneath her, the heat of the sun warming her body, while Castle stood on the beach grilling giant, juicy shrimp over an open fire.

And they were both totally naked!

Or was that _right now_ she was thinking about, as she struggled up to a sitting position in bed looking for her ringing cell phone, the sheet pooled down around her knees. Kate reached out blindly in the dark, only to realize that somehow she and Castle had switched sides during the night. How the hell had that happened? And now her phone was all the way over the far side of the bed.

She got onto her knees, and crept across the mattress, stretching over Castle's sleeping form in an attempt to silence it before he woke up.

"Wassup?" he mumbled sleepily as she got closer and the mattress dipped under her weight, jostling him a little.

"Shhh, Rick. Go back to sleep," she whispered, dropping down to press a kiss to his bare chest as she tapped the phone to answer the call.

He felt so warm and smelled so good: of sleep and musk and the faintest traces of yesterday's lemon-verbena cologne. But she had to tear herself away. Work was calling.

Kate sat on the edge of the bed while she listened to the outline information being rattled off bullet point style by a nameless, faceless entity at Central Dispatch, who would set her off like a clockwork toy on her next case without ever having set eyes on her. And given her current state of undress, Kate thought it was maybe just as well the dispatcher couldn't see her, as she tugged a corner of the sheet modestly across her lap.

Castle rolled over onto his side halfway through the brief call to trace his fingers down the undulating, rickrack pattern of Kate's spine, and then he slid even closer to place a kiss in the twin, oyster-shaped dips of her sacrum; the dimples of Venus. God he loved the English language and the images it could conjure up. But right now, with Kate Beckett sitting gloriously naked on the edge of her bed, allowing him to kiss and fondle her without threat to his personal safety? Absolutely no conjuring required.

Kate had taken him back to her place the night before. They'd made dinner in her small, off-beat kitchen, teasing and flirting over chopped vegetables and seasoning, eaten while the TV flickered in the corner, a cycle of news and adverts largely ignored as they talked ceaselessly in the way only they could; about everything and nothing all at once. Then they made love until the early hours, fast and needy at first to satisfy the desire stirred up by an entire evening of hot looks and tantalizing touches, before tenderness took over, slowing them down until they felt every aching nerve tingle, skin on fire. They showered together around two, lazily, sleepily, before they finally crashed and fell asleep draped over one another, hair still damp, sated smiles on their faces.

"We got a body drop?" Castle mumbled, only half coherently when Kate ended the call.

"Yeah, but I can take it. Go back to sleep. We didn't get much rest last night," she murmured, gently rolling Castle onto his back and kissing his cheek before she made to get up out of bed.

"Where?" he muttered, feeling his eyes getting heavy again despite the effort he was making to stay awake.

"The Ramble, Central Park. You've got your keys. I'll probably go straight to the precinct after…"

"Shhh," said Castle, forcing himself up onto both elbows and valiantly opening his eyes. "I'm up," he declared more forcefully, trying to convince Kate or himself, he wasn't sure which. "Grab me some clothes while I brush my teeth?"

* * *

Kate had thrown on a pair of jeans and sturdy Frye boots since they were going 'off-piste' in the park and it was cooler at that time of the morning. Once they got to the dumpsite she was glad of her decision.

"Look…just…grab my arm," she told Castle, who was slithering and sliding over the blanket of dead leaves in his rather expensive, leather-soled, highly inappropriate footwear while they climbed up the tree-covered slope behind Vista Rock. "And you _really_ need to leave more stuff at my place," she added, earning a raised eyebrow from her partner.

"Or _you_ could just…" Castle started to say.

"Rick, grip onto me," she hastily interrupted, holding out her arm as he slipped again.

"Kate…sorry, _Beckett_, not very manly, out here in the field, being seen hanging onto my partner," he protested as they neared the small, tough, professional crowd of CSU techs, cops, detectives and one sassy, amused looking M.E. who were currently sealing off the scene and getting the investigation underway.

"Well, it's either that or end up with a cast on both arms when you fall on your ass and break the other wrist," she pointed out. "Might make sex a bit…actually, scratch that," said Kate, a mischievous grin appearing on her face. "You'd be helpless," she added with some glee until Castle stopped her with a wounded look.

"Fine. Have it your way," he huffed, giving in and taking her arm. "But I'm warning you. One word from Ryan or Espo and I'm gonna deck somebody," he threatened.

* * *

"Not a happy bunny," explained Kate when she finally reached Lanie. "Too little sleep and no caffeine."

Her friend rolled her eyes at Castle's grumpy expression and then winked suggestively at Kate.

"What have we got?" asked Kate, briskly changing the subject as her cheeks heated up.

Ryan ran through a brief outline of the story so far while looking Castle up and down in a rather amused fashion.

"Homeless guy and his dog were camping nearby last night when the dog suddenly starts barking and takes off. When the guy catches up to him he's sitting down in front of this recently disturbed patch of earth. There's mud on the dog's paws and muzzle, and a piece of white fabric poking out of the ground."

"And this is what was under there?" asked Kate, looking down at what appeared to be a crude, freshly dug grave.

"Yeah. Guy said he thought it might be buried treasure or something," said Ryan, shaking his head. "Says he dug a little and then stopped when he exposed part of a foot. He was pretty freaked out. He ran into a Ranger who was on his way to the Observatory, and _he_ called it in."

"Did the dog disturb anything?" asked Kate.

"No, just scrabbled at the earth and then stopped. He's a bit of a mongrel, but, judging by this find, he'd make a great cadaver dog."

"How fresh is this?" asked Kate, addressing her question to Lanie.

"_Fresh_. Body's been dead less than twenty-four hours. Rigor hasn't broken yet, but body temp has fallen close to the ambient air temperature. Although that would certainly be influenced by the damp earth under these trees causing more rapid cooling that normal after it was placed in the ground and covered up."

"Male or female?" asked Castle, trying to peer over Kate's shoulder for a better view in the gloomy, predawn light.

"Female, Caucasian, approximately eighteen to twenty-five years old. As you'd expect, there was no I.D. on the body. Not much scope for pockets in that thing," said Lanie dryly, indicating the homemade shroud. "Whoever buried her here did us a favor by wrapping her up in this sheet. No animal disturbance, apart from the efforts of Lassie over there. Body's in good condition, though cause of death isn't immediately obvious. So far I can see no marks, bruising, penetrating wounds of any sort, lacerations, bullet wounds, head trauma, crush injuries or any signs of a struggle on the body."

"_So_…are you thinking internal injury, maybe poisoning, drug overdose or some kind of illness? Even natural causes at a stretch?" suggested Kate.

"I won't know until I get her back to the morgue and get a better look at her. But those are all possibilities, yes."

Kate moved aside to let Castle stand next to her in front of the makeshift grave. The loamy earth and decomposing leaves had dirtied up the white shroud. But Lanie was right when she said that the body remained untouched. Apart from a muddy smudge on the right foot, which had presumably been caused by the dog, the corpse was pale and perfect, with alabaster skin that seemed to glow faintly in the grey light of dawn. The eyes were closed and the facial features looked peaceful and relaxed. The victim's hair was completely covered by the shroud, so it was impossible to tell her coloring at this point.

Kate's one thought as she stared at the body was that they were at the beginning of yet another new journey: the very start of this story for Kate and her team, which inevitably meant the end of the story for this young woman, just as it did for every victim they dealt with. It was now their job to research and write that story so well, that they did this poor girl's short life justice.

She thanked Lanie and turned away to walk the perimeter of the scene.

"How're we thinking they got the body here?" asked Kate, looking around. "This has to be about the highest point in the park."

"There are pathways leading right up to Belvedere Castle. With the right permit or enough chutzpah dude could just have driven right up close, and then dragged the body through the trees and down the hill a little ways," said Esposito.

"Any sign of drag marks? This earth is soft and damp. It would mark easily."

"CSU are taking casts of a few footprints Andy found over by the edge of the trees and they'll work the area methodically once the sun comes up, grid at a time. But you know the traffic these woods get. It's party central up here most nights of the week," said Esposito, pointing to a used condom not two feet from where they were standing.

"Did someone interview the homeless guy?" asked Castle, looking over at the shabbily dressed man sitting on a nearby rock, a grizzled, grey and black dog lying at his feet.

"Javi and I had a go," said Ryan, casting a glance at the man who was muttering away to himself. "Let's just say he's not the shiniest penny in the fountain."

"Don't hold back, bro. Guy's a complete Fruit Loop," declared Esposito bluntly. "Swears 'the treasure's all his'. Thinks we're here to steal his stash or somethin'."

"Did you get a timeline from him at least? Any indication of when he got here last night?"

"Park police moved a homeless guy matching his description on from a bench down by the Great Lawn after midnight. They thought he'd left the park, but he obviously doubled back and ended up near the Castle."

"So, what are we saying? Sometime between midnight and…?"

"Ranger called it in just after 5.15am."

"That's some window," said Kate.

"Best we got so far."

"Fine. Have CSU scour the area for tire tracks, drags marks, cigarette butts, footprints, candy wrappers – the whole bit. If our gravedigger or diggers left a single hair behind I want to know about it," said Kate, scanning the ground and the trees. "And get that dog out of here," she added, spotting the grizzled mongrel pawing at the dirt. "Canine Response will _not_ be happy if that mutt messes up their scent trail."

_**Thoughts?**_


	6. Chapter 6 You're The Sugar In My Coffee

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 6 – You're The Sugar In My Coffee._

"Castle, need coffee," whined Kate, sinking down into the driver's seat of her Crown Vic, in a rare moment of weakness and self-pity that had him smiling and loving her just that little bit more, if that were even possible at this point.

"Stop at Morton's on Park," said Castle, massaging the back of her neck in sympathy. "I'll run in."

They both looked wrecked, from the early start and too little sleep. She just hoped Gates didn't put two and two together when they dragged their aching bodies into the precinct and slumped over her desk, exhausted.

When they walked out of the elevator side-by-side, still shocked into silence by fatigue, coffee cups in hand, they were greeted by the excited, but equally tired face of Velasquez.

"We got a hit in CODIS for Baby Doe," she said, holding out a fresh print-off for Kate to look at.

"Mother or father?" asked Kate, scanning down the page with tired eyes.

"There was a match to mtDNA against a missing person."

"The baby's mother," said Kate eagerly.

"Yes. Exact match between alleles at all thirteen loci," said Velasquez, nodding at Kate and watching the smile grow on her face. "No margin of doubt."

"Missing for how long?" asked Castle, breaking into their conversation.

"Close on eleven months," said Velasquez.

Kate blew out a long slow breath and sank down into her chair, taking a slug of coffee before she looked back at the report Detective Velasquez had prepared for them.

"Can I leave this with you?" she asked, stretching. "Been a long night."

"Oh, sure. Sorry," said Kate, waving her off. "We've got this. I'll leave you an update if we get anything more."

"And good luck with your Park find," tossed Velasquez over her shoulder as she headed out of the bullpen. "Like we really needed another body on top of this one!"

"It's what we're here for," said Kate distractedly, eyes scanning the Missing Persons report. "And thanks for this," she added, waving the report in the air.

Castle sat quietly, waiting for Kate to finish reading and then fill him in. He drank his coffee, feeling the caffeine flood his veins, jack up his heart rate and generally begin to revive him.

Kate eventually looked up and seemed surprised to see him sitting there, after becoming completely absorbed by the detail on the page.

"Sorry, Castle," she said. "God, I'm slow this morning."

"Hey, you're not the only one," he replied. "And for the record, that wasn't a complaint."

"Duly noted," said Kate, throwing him a smile.

"Want to fill me in now or you want more coffee first?"

"Coffee, please? Then I'll bring you up to speed."

* * *

"You're a life saver," said Kate, gratefully accepting the steaming cup of coffee Castle had just presented her, with a little flourish and a quick kiss to the forehead.

She startled backwards in her chair away from him, her eyes flicking instantly to Captain Gates' office door.

"Rick," she hissed, watching him saunter back to his side of the desk with a look of relaxed amusement.

"What?" he asked innocently, concealing his smirk with the coffee cup pressed to his lips.

"You _know_ what. Don't play coy," she admonished him. "You're pushing it. If Gates sees…"

"Oh, relax, Kate," said Castle, putting his cup down to stretch his arms above his head in an entirely too distracting manner. "Gates and me, we're…_tight_," he said, picking up the cup again.

"She asked you to get her a _restaurant reservation_ for her anniversary, Castle. That hardly translates to '_tight_'. It's not like she shared classified information with you or anything," Kate pointed out.

Castle shushed her loudly in case anyone else should hear. He looked affronted by her comment and a little put out, so Kate eased off a bit.

"Just…try keeping your hands, lips and any other eh…_appendages_ to yourself, while we're at work. Okay?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "But I still think Gates has thawed towards me."

"Whatever you say, dear," said Kate, hiding an amused smile behind her own coffee cup.

* * *

Kate was standing at the murder board, adding the background information they'd gleaned about Baby Doe's mother from the FBI's Missing Persons database when Ryan and Esposito wandered in looking hot and grubby.

Her name was Caitlin Williams and she was twenty-one years old, a pretty blonde with fine, Scandinavia features, blue eyes and lightly tan skin. The file entry said that she'd disappeared at the end of September the previous year. Both parents were deceased and the DMV listed her next of kin as her brother, Michael. The missing persons report had been filed by her aunt, Cressida Jones, a week after her disappearance.

"How'd you go at the scene?" asked Kate, as she watched both men slump down into their respective chairs with a quiet thud and the complaining squeak of plastic on metal.

"The only scent trail led directly between the body and the pathway out of the trees next to Belvedere Castle and then it stopped. So looks like the dude came in that way," confirmed Esposito. "Probably in some kind of vehicle."

"No trace yet, though we reckon The Ramble should be sponsored by Durex, judging by the number of used rubbers we found in there. It was disgusting," said Ryan.

"Jealous, are we, Kevin?" asked Castle, smirking at Ryan in a way that was sure to spark an argument and lead to taunts about Castle and Kate's private life. "That honeymoon phase passes quickly, doesn't it?" he teased.

Kate quickly cut in to head them off at the pass.

"We got a hit in CODIS for Baby Doe against the DNA of a missing female," she said brightly, sending a warning glance over at Castle for him to stop the teasing.

"So, _what_? You found the baby's mother?" asked Esposito, looking at the information Kate had added to the murder board.

"Looks like it," said Kate. "We got an exact DNA match. No arguing with that. She disappeared in September 2011, and then she got pregnant two months later. Baby Doe was the unfortunate end result."

"You think she simply eloped or something?" asked Esposito.

"It's possible, I guess. She's kind of too old to be a runaway, and both her parents are already dead. Seems her brother and aunt are her only living family."

"What else do we know about her?" asked Ryan.

"The report's a little thin on information. The family seems quite fractured. It says that the aunt was expecting a visit from Caitlin the day she went missing. For some reason she hadn't seen her in a while, but there's no narrative to explain why. It's probably best if Castle and I go and interview her face-to-face. Hear her account first hand," said Kate.

"You want us to stay on The Ramble body?" asked Esposito.

"Yes. Can you set up a second murder board for this morning's Jane Doe, and call me if Lanie turns up anything while we're out. Between a dead baby on the High Line, and a body buried in the Park, we're gonna be juggling two hot media potatoes if we're not careful," warned Kate. "Anyone calls from The Ledger, The Times, The Post or wherever, looking for comment…you pass it to Gates. Understand?"

"Yes, boss," said the boys, waving them off with a jovial salute.

* * *

"Want me to drive? You look tired, Kate," said Castle, when they entered the precinct's basement parking garage.

"No, I'll be fine. It's not like you're in better shape than me, anyway," reminded Kate. "And I'm sure driving with a broken wrist is probably illegal in all fifty states."

"Pizza and an early night?" asked Castle, with a twinkle in his eye.

Kate smiled back, catching the fingers of his left hand where they poked out of his cast. "We'll see," she said, unsure how she was going to refuse Castle's request for a sleepover ever again. Damn persuasive man.

They drove north a little way, up as far as Columbus Circle. Caitlin William's aunt Cressida lived in a red brick apartment building on the corner of Columbus Circle and West 59th Street, right above the entrance to the subway station. A FexEx Office and a Shoe Repair store filled the bottom floor of the building, and air conditioning units pockmarked the outside wall of all twenty stories.

"Mrs. Jones?" called Kate, knocking sharply on the beige front door of apartment 15C.

The hallway was carpeted in a bright, royal blue, the door furniture was good quality brass, highly polished and well taken care off, and real, live plants thrived in ornate planters down in the lobby and at the entrance to every floor.

The building was also free of cooking smells, the sound of screaming kids, yelling adults or loud music, making it a pleasant departure from a lot of the properties Kate had had to visit over the years.

After a minute or so, a tidy, grey-haired woman appeared at the door. She was neatly dressed, if a little staid, in a heather-colored twinset and a navy blue pleated skirt, which fell to mid-calf. A pair of pearl earrings and modest, navy heels completed her outfit.

Kate towered over the woman by nearly a foot.

"Mrs. Jones?" she asked, lowering her gaze by several inches to accommodate the smaller woman.

"Yes?" said the woman hesitantly, the question as to who they were and why they were there already in her voice.

"I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD and this is my partner, Richard Castle," explained Kate, holding up her badge for the woman to inspect. "Could we come in for a moment? It's about your niece, Caitlin."

Suddenly the woman's face broke into a wide, hopeful smile. "You found Caitlin?" she said, opening the door wide and ushering them inside.

"Not exactly," said Kate, frowning as she thought about the information she was about to have to off-load onto the girl's aunt.

"But you're from Missing Persons, right? You must have found something if you're here to see me. I haven't heard from the team that was working on her case in months. Has there been a breakthrough? Oh she's not…"

Cressida Jones put a wavering hand to her mouth, before mouthing the word, "dead?"

"Please. Take a seat, Mrs. Jones. We have no reason to believe that your niece is dead, but we do have some new information I'd like to share with you, and I'd also like to hear more from you about the time Caitlin disappeared, if you wouldn't mind?"

"But I already told the other Detectives everything," said the woman, looking a little confused.

"We're from the Homicide Division, ma'am," explained Kate slowly.

"But I thought you said…"

"Yes, that's right. We have no evidence to suggest that Caitlin is dead. But we do have something rather troubling to tell you."

"In that case I'd better make us some tea," said the woman, toddling off to the small kitchen to put on the teakettle.

Once they were ensconced on her chintzy, floral sofa, with blue and white, willow pattern porcelain teacups and saucers in hand, Kate made a start on her interview.

As she was about to open her mouth, she glanced across at Castle, whose large hand dwarfed the fine china cup, only to see his pinky finger poking up in an alarmingly camp manner as he delicately sipped at the tea. She fought the urge to nudge him in the ribs and roll her eyes, focusing back on Cressida Jones instead.

"Can you tell me when you last saw your niece?" asked Kate, deciding not to plunge in with the devastating news about the baby first.

"It was a few weeks before she disappeared, maybe a month. That makes it almost a year ago now. We had afternoon tea together at The Palm Court. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I remember walking along Central Park South, watching little children dragging their parents into the Park. Caitlin turns heads wherever she goes," said the woman, smiling at Kate. "As I'm sure you do, Detective Beckett."

Kate felt Castle shift beside her and she silently prayed he'd refrain from commenting on the woman's compliment.

"Thank you. Please carry on," she said simply, nodding her encouragement.

"She's tall and elegant, like you, and has lovely posture. She studied ballet until she was seventeen, the year her parents both died in a car accident. Caitlin was thrown clear, but one of the vertebrae in her spine was chipped as a result of the crash, and the doctors advised her not to dance again. After that she focused on her music. Classical piano. She won a place at Julliard and really hasn't looked back since," said Aunt Cressida proudly.

"And you continued to see your niece regularly after she started school?"

"Not perhaps as regularly as I would have liked," admitted the older woman. "She moved into an apartment when she started school and I know she was busy with her studies and social life. That's just the way it goes, I guess, Detectives," she said, smiling ruefully at them both, and Kate felt Castle stiffen a little, instantly realizing he was thinking about Alexis' upcoming departure for college.

"Where did she live before going to Julliard?"

"Oh, why here with me of course," said Mrs. Jones with a little laugh of surprise. "Caitlin moved in with me when her parents died," she explained. "I became their legal guardian."

"_Their_?" asked Castle, jumping on the grammatical nuance.

"Yes, Caitlin and Michael both moved in with me."

"That's the first time you've mentioned Caitlin's brother," said Castle. "He must be frantic waiting for news of his sister too?"

Cressida Jones' face closed up at the mention of her nephew and a shadow passed over her eyes.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't heard from him in well over a year," she said coldly.

"Can I ask why?" said Kate.

"He thought I was stifling Caitlin. Didn't like to follow my house rules. Typical teenage stuff. My sister, the children's mother, was ten years younger than me, and quite the free spirit. So, losing both parents and then having to go and live with your stuffy, aged, widowed aunt wasn't quite what young Michael had in mind."

"Did you fight a lot?"

"No. He just stayed out of the house as often and for as long as he could, and counted down the days until he could legally move out. Even made a wall chart for himself. Their parents left them well cared for, so they were financially independent at eighteen."

"But you and Caitlin remained close?" asked Kate.

"Close is…maybe too strong a word. She was a sweet girl, and she indulged my eccentricities, shall we say. Hence our afternoon tea-date at the Plaza."

"Have you tried to contact your nephew since Caitlin disappeared?" asked Castle.

"I tried. I got in contact with the school, but they told me he'd suddenly stopped attending and they had no forwarding address for him."

"What about his apartment?"

"He and Caitlin shared an apartment until he moved in with his girlfriend sometime last year. They were so close growing up, did everything together."

Castle rose from the sofa and wandered over to the end table, which was covered with framed family photographs. He picked one up and held it out to Cressida Jones.

"Is this Michael and Caitlin?"

The picture showed two stunningly beautiful, blonde children seated on the leather bench in front of a grand piano. They were like peas in a pod.

"Yes, that's the twins," she exclaimed. "They must be about twelve when that was taken. Oh, their parents were so proud."

"_Twins_?" said Kate. "Your niece and nephew are twins?"

"Yes, didn't I say? I told you they did everything together, including going to Julliard. That's why Michael finally moved in with his girlfriend. He was pulling away, you see. Needed to find his own identity. Caitlin was a little upset by it all. She always _was_ the more emotional of the two, a dreamer like her mother. It showed in her music, in her beautiful phrasing. Michael was technically brilliant, but Caitlin's performances had more depth to them, more soul. She felt things very deeply. It was both a gift and a curse."

"Was there any rivalry between the twins? If they were following such similar paths in life, I mean?" asked Castle.

He, Kate and Alexis were all only children, so the concept of sibling rivalry, let alone a twin-to-twin relationship was slightly out with their range of personal experiences.

"No. None at all. Michael just needed to assert his individuality a little, and Caitlin was finding that change hard. Since before their parents died, he was her rock, and she was taking a little time to adjust to him not being there all the time."

"Just how _was_ that adjustment manifesting itself?" asked Kate. "Was she acting out in anyway? Maybe hanging out with a new group of friends? Or did she change her appearance at all? Start dating inappropriate boys? Anything like that?"

"She _was_ making even more of an effort with her appearance, come to think of it. As I said, Detective, the girl turned heads."

"Did anyone ever take any special kind of interest in her?"

"You mean like a man?"

"Yes," said Kate solemnly.

"Why are you asking that?"

Kate couldn't stall any longer. She had to tell the young woman's aunt about Baby Doe.

"Mrs. Jones, the information I am about to give you is going to be upsetting for you. Is there a friend or a neighbor nearby who can come sit with you after we leave?"

"Detective, please just give me the facts," said the woman calmly, and Kate could see in that one steely instant just how Michael Williams might have felt stifled living under his aunt's roof and under her rules.

"Okay. Well, yesterday morning, the body of a premature infant was found, wrapped up in a blanket, at the southern end of the High Line Park. Today, we managed to get an exact DNA match to that baby from the FBI database against the profile of a female missing person. That match was to your niece, Caitlin Williams."

A heavy silence filled the air. There was no sharp intake of breath, no tears, just a long, unsettling silence in which the woman seated in front of them studied the framed photograph Castle had handed her from the end table.

"Mrs. Jones? Are you alright?" asked Kate, when there was no further reaction.

"I knew that modeling nonsense would get her into trouble," hissed the older woman with some vehemence.

"Sorry, did you say _modeling_?" asked Kate, frowning at this new nugget of information.

"Hmmm. She was spotted by some talent scout or other, on Fifth Avenue would you believe? Got herself signed up with some fancy agency. I knew it wouldn't lead anywhere good. Told her it would distract from her schoolwork, but she insisted."

"You sound quite bitter, Mrs. Jones, if I might say," said Kate, trying to peel back the layers they were uncovering here.

"You have children, Detective?"

"No," replied Kate simply.

"Well, let me tell you one thing. Your best will never be good enough for them, and they will suck you dry with their demands and their lack of gratitude."

"Can you tell me the name of the modeling agency Caitlin signed with?" asked Kate, choosing to ignore the older woman's bitter rant.

"_Reflections_," the woman practically spat with a hollow little laugh. "Should have called it Narcissus, in my opinion. _He_ stared at his reflection once too often, and just look what happened to him."

Wow, thought Kate, what do have we here?

"Did she go on many jobs?"

"A few. She was only with them a short time before… But that tall, willowy, Scandinavian look was popular, so she told me. I think she had a call back for a job the day I was supposed to meet her for lunch, come to think of it."

"Do you remember where?" asked Kate eagerly.

"No, I don't. I'm sorry. Maybe the agency can help you," suggested Cressida Jones.

"Thank you, yes, we'll try that route. Did you mention the modeling to the Detectives you spoke to a year ago by any chance?"

"No. I hardly thought it significant. It just seemed like a passing phase. Nothing more. So you really think Caitlin's still alive?"

"Given that she gave birth just a couple of days ago…I'd say there's a strong possibility. But the baby _was_ premature, so there may have been some…_complications_."

Cressida Jones appeared to have tuned out again, so Kate decided to wrap things up without going into any more detail about the birth deformity or the manner of the baby's death.

"Well, thank you for your help today, Mrs. Jones," said Kate, standing to shake the woman's hand. "Here is my card. If you think of anything else, please call me. We'll be in touch with any new developments."

The woman led them out into the hallway, and Kate had a sudden urge to get out of there as fast as she could. They were out in the corridor before Cressida Jones called after her.

"Detective Beckett, what will happen to the baby?"

Kate turned back.

"If the body remains unclaimed, he'll be buried by the City in the cemetery on Hart Island," she explained, referring to the 101 desolate acres lying in the waters off the Bronx, where those without family, friends, money, or who remain unidentified, were sent to be buried.

The girl's aunt seemed to ponder this for a second, then she simply nodded curtly and stepped back into her apartment, closing the door behind her, leaving Kate and Castle a little shell shocked out in the corridor.

"Come on," said Kate, taking Castle's arm. "Change of plan for tonight. Let's spend some time with your wonderful daughter."

_Any thoughts? Care to share?_


	7. Chapter 7 Don't Look At Me Like That

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 7 – Don't Look At Me Like That_

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Kate, when they finally hit the street.

"That Little Aunt Crazy back there is a bit of a control freak?"

"Yeah, well that, and where the _hell_ is Michael Williams? What if Caitlin isn't the only one who's missing? The aunt doesn't seem to give a damn about her nephew. Just poor little, controllable Caitlin."

"I didn't think of it like that. You think maybe they ran away together? Oh…whoa, wait. You don't think…? Kate, _no_."

Kate stood in front of him with one eyebrow raised and her arms crossed as she watched the penny drop. Traffic swirled round the monument of Columbus at the center of The Circle, spewing fumes into the hot summer air, as a horrified realization dawned on Castle's face.

"_No_. That _baby_? I mean she said they were _close_, but he had a _girlfriend_. I mean what you're suggesting is just…"

"Sick, I know. But it wouldn't be the first time a brother and sister fell for one another."

"They're _twins_, Kate!" said Castle, outraged by her suggestion.

"Exactly. And who else knows better what the other one is thinking, feeling, experiencing. You heard what the aunt said about Narcissus; they're beautiful kids and looking at one another must be like gazing at your own, bewitching reflection. Look at us…"

"What the hell, Kate. We're nothing like…"

"I know. That's not what I meant. Just listen. Part of what turns me on about you and me is how in tune we are. The number of times we're thinking the same thing at the exact same time. The way we finish each other's sentences. That's what it must be like for them _all the time_."

"I…look you _really_ have to stop saying what you just said, or I'm gonna start looking at you differently and this is…_no_…_so_ _not_ what I want to be thinking about when I feel you reading my dirty mind, Kate."

"But you know I've got a point, right?" said Kate, grinning at his freaked out face, and tugging on his hand to get him to turn and look at her.

"I guess, in a totally creepy, sicko kind of a way," said Castle, grudgingly.

"Good. I'll call Lanie and get her to run both the Y chromosome and the mtDNA again, to see if any familial link or abnormalities show up. We already know that the baby was born with one obvious and maybe a second not so obvious birth defect. This could be the reason," said Kate, eagerly.

Castle grudgingly agreed, leaning on the green metal railing around the top of the subway entrance while Kate made the call. Lanie was unavailable, so she left a voicemail message.

She took Castle by the arm as they headed back to her parked car, leaning in to whisper to him, "And there's _nothing_ incestuous about our relationship, Rick."

Castle smiled gratefully at her, until she added mischievously, "…other than the fact that we both work together _and_ sleep together."

Kate broke into peels of laughter when his eyebrows shot up and he shoved her away from him. "Evil woman," he muttered. "You won't be laughing if I withhold sex, Kate Beckett."

"Oh, I think I'll live," she lied, swinging her hips as she walked away from him.

"Liar!" called Castle, regretting his stupid little threat and wondering who'd crack first.

* * *

When they got back to the precinct Castle was still giving Kate the odd funny look. But all of that was forgotten when they heard the rich, throaty laugh of a certain Ms. Lanie Parish coming from the break room.

"Hey, Lanie's here," said Kate eagerly.

"Oh great," muttered Castle. "Maybe you can get her to run our DNA. Wouldn't want to end up with a couple of mutant kids, now would we?"

Kate looked at Castle, sighed, rolled her eyes and said, "Really? Enough already."

"You started it," he complained.

"Yes, and now I'm ending it. There is _nothing_ wrong with our genes, either individually or combined. We'd make really smart, funny, beautiful kids."

Castle caught her by the elbow and his eyes lit up with excitement at what she was saying.

Then Kate added, "…and I'm sure whatever traits you throw into the mix would be great too."

She started laughing all over again at Castle's appalled expression. "Come on, let's go torture someone else for a bit," she said, as he trailed after her.

* * *

"Hey, Lanie," said Kate. "I just called you. Can you do me a favor? I need you to run some DNA for me. It's just a hunch…"

"A totally freaked out hunch," muttered Castle, and they all turned to stare at him. "Sorry," he waved his hand, "carry on."

"Anyway, as I was saying," said Kate, eyeing her partner carefully. "Can you run Baby Doe's DNA again and check for faulty alleles or missing chromosomes?"

"_Sure_," said Lanie, slowly. "But first you might want to take a seat before you hear what I have to tell you."

Castle immediately sought out Kate, and she did the same. But as soon as their eyes met, rather than be delighted by their synchronicity, as he usually was, Castle just looked even more freaked out.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked Lanie, ignoring Castle's expression.

Her mind always rushed to imagine the worst possible personal scenario when someone said something like that: 'take a seat, I have something to tell you'.

This had been her brain's standard response to impending bad news ever since she was informed of the death of her mother by a police officer nearly two decades earlier. These days the scenario usually involved her dad, Alexis, Martha or Castle. But since he was standing right beside her, he failed to feature in today's heart-stopping little Kate Beckett tragi-fantasy.

"It's our Jane Doe from the Park this morning," began Lanie.

Kate let out a slow breath, nearly adding '_oh that'_ in relief.

"You did the P.M. already?" asked Kate, surprised.

"Not finished, no final report. But I thought I'd let you know my preliminary findings."

"Okay," said Kate, sitting down on the edge of the table.

Ryan and Esposito were slumped on the break room sofa drinking coffee, and Kate eyed their cups enviously.

"Cause of death was a massive infection due to some retained placental matter, resulting in toxic shock syndrome caused by a uterine infection."

Kate stared at the M.E., the wheels in her brain turning rapidly.

"So…so you're saying that the woman we found this morning had just given birth? And that's what killed her?"

Lanie nodded.

"Symptoms? Any treatment?"

"She'd have experienced a fever, maybe blood loss, a rapid heart rate, low blood pressure, nausea and vomiting, any or all of these. Ultimately she would have fallen into a coma after suffering multiple organ failure," explained Lanie. "TSS is perfectly treatable with antibiotics if caught quickly enough," she confirmed.

"Any chance she's the mother of Baby Doe?"

"That crossed my mind too. I'm already running tests to check whether their DNA matches, and I'm cross checking her DNA against the profile in CODIS for Caitlin Williams. It'll exclude that possibility if nothing else."

"Shit," said Kate. "We just came from her aunt's place. The message I left was to ask you to run Baby Doe's male donor DNA to check for any Y Chromosomal abnormalities cause by…" Kate hesitated, looked at Castle. "Inbreeding," she finally added.

Lanie, Ryan and Esposito just stared at her, speechless.

After thirty seconds of silence Castle piped up.

"Kinda sick, I know. But you didn't hear the aunt or see the pictures of these kids. Caitlin and Michael Williams are twins. Twins with dead parents, who were both studying music at Julliard together and sharing an apartment until very recently. Way too close to be normal for a pair of twenty-one year olds in this city."

Kate sent Castle a grateful look for backing her up, and he nodded silently in response.

"Where is this Michael Williams now?" asked Esposito.

"We don't know. His aunt hasn't seen him in over a year, since before Caitlin disappeared. She said he'd moved in with his girlfriend. But we don't have a name or address for her yet. Javi, can you check with Missing Persons to see if anyone has been looking for him and hasn't linked him to his sister yet?" asked Kate.

"I'm going to find someone to talk to at Julliard. See if we can get a last known address from them. Their tuition invoices had to go somewhere."

"Castle, can you dig up some background information on the Reflections Model Agency, since there's a possibility Caitlin had a job booked the day she disappeared?"

"Lanie, thanks for bringing us that information so quickly. Call me as soon as you get anything on the possible DNA match to Caitlin Williams."

Lanie left the break room and Kate followed her out. The M.E. stopped in front of the murder board Kate had set up for Baby Doe and stared at the picture of Caitlin Williams they'd printed off from the Missing Persons database.

"Looking at that," said Lanie, pointing to the photograph of the smiling young blonde woman, "you're not going to need a DNA test to confirm who our Jane Doe is. All I can tell you, after hovering over her for the best part of the morning, is that she looks a little older, a little more tired, and a lot less shiny…but, Kate, it's definitely the same girl."

"That's good enough for me," said Kate. "We'll bring the aunt in for a formal identification."

* * *

Later that same afternoon, Lanie reappeared in the bullpen to deliver her final autopsy report.

"Hey, Kate," she said, handing over the file folder. "I'm afraid I've come with some more bad news."

Kate's first instinct, as ever, was to look over at Castle, her touchstone, before addressing Lanie.

"What's the bad news?" she asked, studying the M.E.'s face.

"_I'm_ the bad news," said a familiar voice, causing all three Detectives, the doctor, and the writer to turn towards the door, where Special Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI was lounging against a file cabinet with an amused glint in her eye, watching all of them.

_Thoughts?_


	8. Chapter 8 Jurisdiction Schmiction

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 8 – Jurisdiction Schmiction_

Kate stared at Jordan Shaw for several seconds before mustering any kind of a reply.

Castle gaped, his mouth actually hanging open, at the sight of the FBI profiler.

"Jordan, to what do we owe this pleasure?" Kate finally managed, rising from her desk to shake the woman's hand, once she'd managed to pull herself together.

After a few bumps in the road, mostly involving Castle it had to be said, Kate and Jordan Shaw had worked well together on previous cases, resulting in a measure of mutual respect. But that certainly didn't mean that Kate welcomed the FBI into her precinct to poke their nose into her case, and strong arm her on her own turf.

"Hello, Detective Beckett. Mr. Castle, glad to see you still here, toiling away at the coal face."

Castle smiled eagerly at Special Agent Shaw, remembering her like a kid would his favorite uncle: as the bearer of cool FBI toys and gadgets.

Kate scowled.

"So? What brings you back to the One-Two?" she asked, trying to mask her irritation at Castle's warm welcome.

"Your Jane Doe, Caitlin Williams."

"Yes?" asked Kate, wondering how on earth the FBI had gotten to know about that so fast.

"We were the submitting law enforcement agency, so naturally we were also the lab's first point of contact for the DNA hit notification," explained Agent Shaw, eerily answering Kate's unasked question. "You rang, we answered basically, and…well, here _I_ am," she said brightly, holding her arms away from her body, to reveal a well-cut, black, skirt suit and sharp-collared, white shirt.

Kate's mind drifted for a second. Did the CIA and the FBI share the same tailor, she wondered distractedly, because Jordan's suit bore a striking similarity to Sophia Turner's work wardrobe? She shook her head, pulling her mind away from unhappy reminiscences about Castle's first muse to focus on the reason for the woman's visit.

"Shall we go into the conference room and discuss this?" suggested Kate. "Ryan, could you get us some coffee, and Esposito, could you ask Captain Gates to join us?" asked Kate.

Castle rose to accompany Kate and Jordan Shaw to the conference room. But Kate turned to him, laid a hand gently on his arm and said, "Castle, if you could help Ryan?" His face fell, so she added a softer, "Please?" before turning away.

* * *

"_So_, you and Castle," drawled Jordan Shaw with a knowing smile as soon as they sat down opposite one another at the conference room table, just as Kate was on the point of asking her why she was _really_ there.

"Me and Castle, _what_?" asked Kate, feigning innocence, but unable to conceal the blush rising on her cheeks.

"Oh, come on, Kate. I'm an FBI profiler. How long?"

Kate sighed, checking the door to see who might be about to burst in on them.

"Not long. A couple of months. Captain doesn't even know yet. Let's just say Castle isn't her favorite person," she added, in answer to Jordan's raised eyebrow.

"Going well though? You look…_relaxed_. And happy, Kate."

"We just got back off vacation. And, yeah, things are good. Still working out a few kinks," she admitted.

"Like your place or mine?" laughed Jordan. "Hey, that's the fun part. At least you don't have to do his laundry."

"Oh, Rick's the domesticated one in this relationship, believe me," said Kate, warming to the subject and enjoying the opportunity to confide. "Cooks like a pro, separates the colors from the whites, brings me coffee every morning…"

"And great in bed, judging by that grin on your face."

Kate laughed freely, her head thrown back, unable to refute what Jordan had just said, since she was bang on the money.

"Lucky girl," said Jordan, grinning. "I'm glad you guys finally got it together. Last time I saw you I wanted to lock you both in a room until you figured things out."

Castle's voice startled them both when he appeared at the door carrying a jug of ice water.

"Funny, we _were_ locked in a room together, with a tiger and handcuffs no less, and she still wouldn't fall for my charms," he joked.

* * *

Captain Gates appeared behind Castle before Kate had time to reply. He visibly jumped at the sound of her voice, shutting down any further personal chitchat.

Kate and Jordan both stood.

"Sir, allow me to introduce Special Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI," said Kate.

"Captain Victoria Gates," said Gates, holding out her hand to the FBI Agent. "To what do we owe this pleasure, Agent Shaw? What brings the FBI to my precinct?"

They all settled around the conference table, awaiting an explanation from Jordan Shaw.

"Your Jane Doe, the young woman found buried in Central Park this morning," she began, "has been missing since last September. When her aunt filed the Missing Person Report her disappearance was judged extremely out of character."

"How so?" asked Captain Gates.

"_Well_, she was in school, for one thing; a dedicated, enthusiastic student by all accounts. She had good friends, an apartment she loved, family ties to the city, albeit limited, and nothing had been removed from her apartment prior to her disappearance."

"Nothing?" asked Castle.

"Her clothes, suitcase, passport, her mother's jewelry, family photographs - all still there. She even left a fully stocked refrigerator. Who does that if they're planning on skipping town?"

"So, you think maybe she was kidnapped?" asked Ryan.

"There were strong indicators that maybe she didn't leave of her own free will. When we received a related report, from a third party, that her brother, Michael, had also disappeared, we added their DNA to our database. That's why I was the first port of call when the lab got a hit in CODIS against her profile today."

"So someone _had_ reported Michael Williams missing?" asked Kate.

"Yes. His girlfriend, Ariel Peters," said Jordan, checking the file in front of her. "She went to the police when she couldn't get in contact with him for a few days. They were living together, but turns out they'd had an argument, about his sister funnily enough. Ariel assumed he'd gone to stay with Caitlin until he cooled off."

"Do we know what they argued about?" asked Kate.

"Ariel said that Michael and his sister were extremely close and that Caitlin had issues with him moving in with her. Said she was clingy. Got in the way. Michael didn't want to hear it. Wouldn't let anyone say a bad word about his sister."

Jordan Shaw shrugged.

"Ariel said it was as if there were three of them in the relationship. Classic case of jealousy."

"And the _FBI_ has taken an interest in this _why_?" asked Captain Gates, a little surprised.

"Ah, I'm glad you brought that up, Captain. I hadn't quite finished," explained Jordan, somewhat putting Gates in her place.

Castle smirked across the table at Kate, and she pressed her lips together to keep her own face straight. Jordan Shaw was more than a match for their strict, female Captain. This could be fun.

"Caitlin and Michael Williams are twins, as I'm sure you know by now. They're also the fifth set of twins to go missing in the Tri-State area over the last eighteen months," Jordan explained.

"Whoa." said Castle, letting out a low whistle. "_Five?_"

"And you think they're all connected, obviously, or you wouldn't be here," said Captain Gates, her words clipped. "Kidnappings?"

"That's certainly what it looks like. But we don't have a why, a where, or a who yet."

"And how can we help?" asked Gates curtly.

"I'd like to you run me through the information you've gathered so far on Caitlin Williams, and then I will be out of your hair," said Jordan brightly.

"You're _taking_ _our case_?" asked Kate in surprise.

"Actually, it's _our_ case, since it's a kidnapping, and I'm sure I don't need to remind you - that makes it Federal. It's also just a small part of a much bigger picture, Kate. So, if you could just run the case for me…"

"_No_," said Captain Gates firmly, interrupting Agent Shaw.

Every member of the assembled team turned to stare at her, then four heads whipped back round in anticipation of the FBI agent's response, like spectators at a tennis match.

"_No?_" repeated Jordan Shaw, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at the Captain, not quite believing what she'd just heard.

Esposito looked over at Kate, both Detectives eyes grew wide as they watched a power struggle for jurisdiction kick off in front of them.

'Iron' Gates versus the FBI – oh, this was going to be _so_ good.

May the best man win!


	9. Chapter 9 You Scratch My Back

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 9 – You Scratch My Back_

"_No?_" repeated Jordan Shaw, when Captain Gates refused to back down.

"You said five sets of twins in the Tri-State area, right?" confirmed Gates.

"Yes, _so_?"

"How many of those twins came from The City?"

"Three. One set lived in New Jersey, one in Connecticut."

"So, the majority are Manhattanites?"

"Yes," acknowledged Jordan, unsure where Gates was going with this. "And your point, Captain?"

"Any of your other missing persons found buried in Central Park?" asked Gates.

"No, but…"

"Any recently give birth to a baby? A baby _we_ found dead two days ago on the High Line Park?"

"A what? A _baby_? Caitlin Williams had a _baby_?" asked a somewhat surprised Jordan Shaw.

"Well, it sounds to me like we have some of your best leads so far, Special Agent Shaw," said Gates, her tone cold and a little superior. "And since the majority of your missing twins have disappeared from _our_ jurisdiction, I would like to propose that we work together on this one."

Kate watched her Captain perform, her respect for the woman growing just a little as she vigorously fought her team's corner, trying to retain some involvement in the case.

Jordon Shaw considered the request.

"You know I _could_ just pull rank?" she said eventually.

"I know that," replied Gates quietly. "But from what I've heard, you have experience working with my team, and, unconventional as they may be," she said, looking pointedly at Castle, "you seem to work well together. Be a shame to deny these missing people some of the best investigative minds in The City because _we_ got into a little pissing contest."

"Show me what you have on Caitlin Williams and her dead baby and maybe…"

"_No_. No dice," said Gates, shaking her head and firmly standing her ground. "I want an assurance from you that we get to assist on this case, or my team will continue to investigate these homicides without you. The baby's ours in any event."

"But the two are connected. We _need_ that information," argued Jordan.

"I can see that you do. So share your toys, Agent Shaw. You know we can always let the media in on this little power struggle. I've already briefed them on the basic details of both cases, and they'll be expecting an update from me. _Soon_. Could get…_politically messy_…" added Gates, arching her eyebrow at Jordan Shaw.

You could have heard a pin drop in the conference room. Kate found herself holding her breath, watching the two women, politely but determinedly, duke it out.

After a full sixty, excruciating seconds had passed, Jordan Shaw finally rose from her seat at the conference room table looking less than amused, her fingers braced against its' shiny surface.

"_Fine_," she said reluctantly. "You're in. But you operate under _my_ command. _Understand_? You share any and all scraps of information with me. That means _no_ going rogue, Mr. Castle," said added, ignoring the writer's shocked expression, "and there will be _no_ briefing the media without my say so," she said, turning to address an indignant looking Captain Gates.

Without waiting for a response to her terms, she made her way to the door.

"Uh, where are you going?" asked Kate.

"I think you have a couple of dead bodies to brief me on. While we've been…_chatting_, my team has been busy studying your murder board," she smirked, watching their faces when they realized she'd got one over on them. "I'm going to ask them to join us," she said, waving two, tall, rangy, male FBI Agents into the room, "so you can fill in the blanks."

"One big, happy family," muttered Castle, moving up a couple of places to make space for the new team members.

"Allow me to introduce Agents Matthews and Reed," said Jordan, ushering the men into the room.

'FBI hair' thought Castle, checking out the Government Issue side-part, the neat short back and sides. With their well-tailored grey suits, pocket squares and skinny ties, Castle felt like he'd just landed up in the middle of an episode of Mad Men. He, Ryan and Esposito looked like a jumble if misfits in comparison.

Matthews and Reed nodded stiffly at the assembled company and then filed into the two vacant seats.

"Kate, you want to bring us up to speed on your two cases?" asked Jordan Shaw, inviting her to address the room.

Kate glanced at Captain Gates, who was sitting at the head of the table with a grim expression on her face. The Captain nodded wordlessly at Kate, who briefly left the room to collect her files, and then returned to begin her presentation.

* * *

"A premature baby was found dead and abandoned up on the High Line two days ago. Left in amongst some ornamental reeds, wrapped up in a white blanket. No marks on the body, but our M.E. did find signs of smothering during the P.M. There were fibers from the blanket caught in the baby's nose and throat, and white areas around the nose and mouth cause by manual compression."

"Any identifying marks on the body? Manufacturer's label, or distinguishing patterns on the blanket? Anything?" asked Jordan.

Castle cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably when Kate laid the stack of autopsy photographs out on the tabletop. She spread them out for the FBI team to examine.

"The male child was born with the obvious deformity you can see here - an extra limb - and we have been working under the assumption that this was most likely the reason someone saw fit to smother the child."

"Otherwise the baby was healthy?" asked Agent Reed.

"Around six weeks premature, so lungs were slightly underdeveloped. Heart was enlarged. But we _know _that the baby breathed independently after birth. So this was definitely a homicide," said Kate, sliding a copy of the autopsy report to Jordan Shaw. "We also matched the baby's DNA against the profile in Missing Persons that you entered for Caitlin Williams."

"What about donor DNA from the father?" asked Reed.

"The lab is running that as we speak. Given the birth defect, we're starting with Michael Williams, as unsavory as that thought obviously is," explained Kate.

"Did you find any evidence that Caitlin had a boyfriend when you were investigating her disappearance?" asked Castle, ever hopeful that the incest theory might be proved wrong.

"No. None, I'm afraid," said Jordan. "But let's wait for the results of that test until we go calling a priest. What can you tell us about the conditions Caitlin was found under?"

"A homeless man found her buried in a shallow grave near Belvedere Castle, inside The Ramble. She was wrapped up in a white sheet. There was no I.D. or any other identifying items present with the body. Our M.E.'s initial determination is that cause of death was a massive infection – Toxic Shock Syndrome – cause by a failure of the placenta to fully expel after birth. Death was preventable if she'd had access to antibiotics, so we can rule this one a negligent homicide."

"Okay, so we showed you ours," said Captain Gates brusquely, once Kate had finished her update. "Time to show us yours."

"Captain?" asked Jordan Shaw, staring down the female cop, eyes focused and unblinking.

"Your missing twins, Agent Shaw," prompted Gates. "You're up. Time for show and tell."


	10. Chapter 10 Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 10 – Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity_

"Agent Matthews, would you oblige Captain Gates by filling our friends here at the NYPD in on the information we've collected so far on our four additional sets of missing twins?" said Jordan Shaw, her jaw set tight.

Because there was no way she was taking an order from Victoria Gates, ex-IAB mouthpiece, to '_show and tell'_. Not this side of hell at any rate. She knew what they called this woman behind her back, and if this one was made of _iron_, then Jordan Shaw was made of _steel_. There was no contest. No doubt who would win in Jordan Shaw's mind.

Matthews rose a little hesitantly from his chair. He'd been selected by the FBI for his analytical and IT skills evidently, because he immediately started to sweat under the combined gaze of five unfamiliar pairs of eyes.

Social skills were clearly not his strong suit.

He managed to make his way to the pin board on the end wall without tripping over the furniture, though his hands shook as he began to attach a series of FBI profile sheets to the wall.

"Eighteen months ago, David and Rachel Gross disappeared after leaving their home in New Jersey to attend a meeting in The City. They are fraternal twins, as are the rest of the missing siblings."

He pointed to the young, fresh-faced pair as he talked, possibly as a way to keep his back partially to his audience in an effort to control his nerves.

"They lived at home with their parents. They were seventeen years old, good students, never been in trouble. So when they failed to return home that evening their parents called police. After a couple of days, the case was passed onto us. There have been no sightings of these two in the last eighteen months. Though we have…"

Agent Matthews jumped and stammered when Esposito's rich, confident voice interrupted his flow.

"Parents get a ransom note? Anything like that?" asked Esposito.

"No. In none of these cases has a ransom demand been made, Detective Esposito," interjected Jordan Shaw. "That's one of the most puzzling aspects of this case. Until you turned up the fresh body of Caitlin Williams today, we had no idea if any of these kids were _even_ still alive."

"Might want to get Lanie to run a hair, nail and dental analysis on Caitlin to check for any trace of environmental or chemical toxins, fluoride levels in the water, vitamin or mineral deficiencies," suggested Kate. "Could help indicate where they've been living. That, together with an analysis of the stomach contents from the final autopsy report, should tell us something about the state of her nutritional health and how well cared for she was."

"Good call, Kate. I'll get samples sent to Quantico. We'll get faster results that way," said Jordan.

Though her decisions were made from a purely practical standpoint, it was hard not to view the '_our lab's better than yours' _inference as one-upmanship.

Kate let the remark go, and waved edgy Agent Matthews on with his presentation.

"Our second set of missing twins is a pair of nineteen year olds from north of The City. Kendal and Rudy Jones lived in East Tremont with their mother, Gloria. They too visited The City the day they disappeared, fifteen months ago, though it took their mother a couple of days to appeal to the police. Kendal worked at a drycleaners near her apartment in the South Bronx, but she regularly slept over at her boyfriend's place during the week. Rudy got intermittent bar work at an illegal gambling club on East 182nd Street, and often didn't come home nights. So again, the mother wasn't quick to wonder where he was. We interviewed Kendal's best friend, and she told us that the twins had plans to go into The City together for some kind of an audition."

"Kendal was quite the singer, apparently," interjected Jordan. "Sang in church when she was younger, performed in front of the mirror with a hairbrush when she was home. Thought she was going to be the next Rihanna, according to the mother. Convinced she was about to be discovered."

"When did Kendal's friend last hear from her?" asked Kate.

"Morning she went missing. Phone was dead by mid-afternoon. None of the twins' cell phones has been switched back on since they disappeared and not one of them has been recovered," said Agent Matthews, giving Kate a shy, but warm smile, which didn't go unnoticed by Castle.

"What about the fourth pair?" asked Castle, interrupting Matthews' little crush on his partner to get him to refocus.

He cleared his throat at the writer's question, and a blush crept up his neck when he became flustered.

"Eh…right. Yeah, the forth pair are Phillip and Sue Bateman, twenty-three year old post-grad students at NYU. Both were studying at the College of Dentistry. Father's a dentist. Apparently they wanted to keep it in the family."

"And the mother?" asked Ryan.

"Housewife. Parents live in Connecticut. Father's practice is there. Kids were planning on joining him once they were qualified. Twins were living in an apartment complex near the University. Shared the space with a couple of other dentistry students. Sue called mom every Thursday and Sunday like clockwork, so she knew something was up when they missed their regular weekend call. These were two bright kids. The family is devastated. They've been missing for the last seven months."

"And the final set?" asked Kate.

"Maria and Angelo Fuentes, twenty four years old and both from Manhattan. They're our most recent victims. Went missing four months ago."

"Hey, I know her," exclaimed Castle.

Kate gave him a searching look, eyebrow raised in a question.

"_No_, not like _that_," he said immediately, frowning at Kate as he answered her look. "She was a children's TV presenter on some show that Alexis watched when she was a kid. My daughter loved her," he said, addressing the room. "_She's_ missing too?"

"Yes, as I said, Mr. Castle, along with her brother Angelo. Their mother told police that Maria had an audition. Angelo was like her minder, he accompanied her on all her casting sessions and call backs."

"And don't tell me, no one has seen or heard from them in the last four months?" said Kate.

"Correct. Last sighting we have is from some security cam footage of the two of them entering a building on East 44th Street, corner of Madison, on April 22nd."

"You find out who they were visiting?" asked Kate.

"No. Building is forty stories high. Multiple occupancy. Mixed use. From corporate entities with whole floors, to suites that rent out by the month. No one we spoke to could tell us why they were there."

"So what's our next move?" asked Kate.

"We get those samples sent down to Quantico and we reconvene here in the morning," suggested Jordan, looking at her watch. "My daughter has a recital this evening at school, and I'm gonna have to run if I'm going to make it on time," she explained, rising from the table.

"Eh, Agent Shaw?" said Kate, halting Jordan's route to the door.

"Yes, Detective Beckett?"

"Did Caitlin William's aunt Cressida ever mention a model agency when you interviewed her?"

"No. I don't think so. Agent Matthews? Reed?" she asked, referencing her colleagues.

When they confirmed that Cressida Williams had indeed failed to mention the Reflections Agency to the FBI, Kate asked permission for her and Castle to pay them a visit the next day, since '_audition_' was a word that popped up more than once in connection with their missing twins.

Jordan Shaw nodded her agreement.

"Keep me up to speed. Now I really must go, or I'll end up on the naughty step again. Detectives. Captain Gates. Always a pleasure," she said, snapping a quick salute as a goodbye.

The meeting broke up shortly after, and they all filed back to their desks.

"That was _awesome_ back there, Sir," said Castle, trying to make small talk as he walked behind Captain Gates when they left the conference room.

"Suck up," coughed Esposito, shaking his head at Castle.

Ignoring his compliment, Gates said, "You heard Special Agent Shaw, Mr. Castle? There will be _no_ going rogue on this one. Embarrass me at your peril," she said sternly, before walking away.

"I heard it the first time," called Castle, to Captain Gates' retreating back.

Kate tugged on his bicep.

"Rick, I'd quit while you're ahead," she said, smiling sympathetically at him, and pulling him away towards her desk. "Come on. Let's go home. Spend some time with Alexis," she suggested. "This'll all still be here in the morning."

* * *

The wind blew whisperers through the trees, spreading its secrets all around them. Water flowed nearby, bubbling, babbling on its way downstream. A warm, insulated heat filled up the building, easing joints apart with sighing familiarity. Peace had descended again. Quiet returned. Calm restored.

"Michael, hold her still," he instructed firmly.

The overhead lighting cast a sharp, bluish halo around them, until the dark edges consumed the rest of the space.

"You won't feel a thing, I promise," he said more gently to Maria Fuentes, laying a reassuring hand on her thigh. "Just relax and breathe deeply," he added, as he plunged the delivery end of the catheter all the way down.

She lasted a few seconds before passing out in a dead faint. Her vision went fuzzy around the edges, flashed bright white, and then faded to black.

_A/N: What about that promo for "Always"? Ugh, a whole week! Don't know how I'm going to stand it._


	11. Chapter 11 Can I Tell You A Secret?

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

**This chapter is a cute, fluffy, (part M rated) night off for our beloved duo. Enjoy!**

_Chapter 11 – Can I Tell You A Secret?_

"Castle, that's an urban myth," laughed Kate, tugging him in through the front door of the loft by his lapels.

He stumbled into her, happily, laying his hands at her waist to hold them both upright.

"Myth, huh?" he grinned, pulling her up against him so that he could nibble at her mouth then tease her lips apart, invading its delicious, soft pink warmth with his tongue.

"What if I proved you wrong, Detective? Would you believe all my theories from now on if I _showed you_ that it's no myth?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her after pulling their lips apart with a wet smack.

Kate giggled. She giggled like a little girl when he tweaked her sides and rushed for her neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive skin just above her clavicle, while she wriggled to free herself from his grip.

"Myth, Castle. You can't prove the unprovable," she squeaked, starting to tickle him back; using attack as a means of defense.

"Hey, dad. Hey, Kate. You two look like you had a good day," called Alexis, startling them both. She smiled as she watched them tease one another from the spot on the sofa where she'd set up camp.

"We…uh. Sure, it was…did we have a good day, Rick?" asked Kate sounding dazed and confused and a little breathless as she tugged at the front of her shirt while trying to prize Castle off her body.

She was getting so much better at this. But being caught pawing one another by Castle's daughter was still a bit of a stretch for Kate Beckett and her personal boundaries. The experience still knocked her for six until she could rationalize things and make her brain catch up with her emotions. They were doing nothing wrong. Alexis believed Kate was good for her dad, and Kate considered Rick's daughter when they made most of their plans.

They actually made a great little team when they hung out together. Kate and Alexis mostly tag teamed against Castle, and he secretly loved it, despite his frequent protestations. Occasionally, Castle and Alexis would go up against Kate, but this mostly involved Castle family traditions or followed threats from her dad that her allowance would be stopped if she failed to back him up.

"We had an interesting day, sweetie," said Castle, finally letting Kate go. "We're working with the FBI on a case…_and they have such cool toys!"_ he whispered to Alexis, high-fiving her behind Kate's back.

"You guys have plans for tonight?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, we thought we'd go out for drinks, a little dinner then maybe on to a club," said Castle, trying to keep his expression neutral as he watched Alexis' face fall.

"He is…_Rick_!" said Kate, smacking Castle on the arm. "Don't listen to him, Alexis. We thought we'd spend the evening at home with you - dinner and a movie. What do you say?" asked Kate, throwing Castle a look.

"Sounds great," said Alexis, grinning eagerly. "But only if you're sure. I don't want to…"

"Pumpkin, I was just messing with you. We're sure. Kate's idea in fact."

"Great. I'll grab the menus. You guys choose the movie."

"If only all parenting were so easy," said Castle, tugging Kate in for a quick kiss. "Thanks for suggesting we spend time with her tonight. Looks like she needs it, judging by how eager she was to hang out with us."

"Well, one of us is still hip enough to hang with," teased Kate, turning to lay her purse on the coffee table. "The other's closer to needing a hip replaceme…_ahhh!_" she yelled, when Castle felled her onto the sofa with a swift nudge to the back of her knees.

"Reaction times getting a little slow there, Detective. Might want to think about scheduling that _hip_ replacement," he joked, flipping her onto her back and then crawling on top of her.

"Guys," said Alexis, heading across from the kitchen. "Might want to save the R rated stuff for later. Thai, Chinese or Italian?" she asked, ignoring Kate's mortified expression.

Once Castle had climbed back off of her, Kate sat up and brushed her hair off her face.

"You guys choose. I'm going to freshen up a little," she said, heading for Castle's bathroom.

When he tried to follow her, Kate turned and halted him with a hand to his chest.

"Go spend some time with Lex. We've got all night, Rick. Go," she added softly, gently pushing him backwards.

"Love you," he said in reply, throwing her a little.

These carefree expressions of love and affection flew in out of left field sometimes, and were still so new between them that it occasionally caught her off guard.

"Love you too," she replied, her eyes watching his, the way they waited for her to say those words back and then relaxed as soon as she said them. "Now go, or I'll tell Gates you went rogue on Agent Shaw."

Kate laughed at Castle's horrified expression and then turned and left the room humming to herself.

* * *

Freshening up turned into a fifteen minute shower for Kate, and then another ten or so rooting around the few clothes she still had at Castle's place before she found something to wear and made an appearance out in the main living space of the loft.

She found Castle and Alexis in the kitchen, laying out plates and cartons of Thai food. The warm, spicy aroma of ginger, garlic and chilli mingled with the sharp fragrant sweetness of lime and lemongrass, and Kate's mouth began to water.

"I had no idea I was this hungry," she said, snagging a cashew nut from a birds nest of noodles before Castle could slap her hand away. Her stomach complained loudly.

Kate's hair was still damp and it had made a dark stain on the back of an old Beavis and Butt-head tee shirt of Castle's that she'd found in amongst his clean pile of laundry. The shirt had the line '_Shut up or I will kill you. Shut up or I will physically kill you_,' printed on the back.

Castle spun her around and laughed hard. "I'm never wearing that shirt again. It was totally _made_ for you. Don't know why I never thought of that before."

Kate laughed in agreement, reaching round him to gather up some pad Thai noodles with a set of disposable chopsticks. "Maybe I should wear this to the One-Two, and just spin around like Wonder Woman whenever I need you to stop talking," she suggested playfully.

"Will you also wear the red satin hot pants, Detective Beckett?"

"In your dreams, Rick."

"Oh you wear a whole lot less than that in my…"

"_Dad!_" groaned Alexis, screwing up her face. "Remember our little chat about over-sharing?" she said, so adult and serious that it made Kate laugh.

"Yes," he said contritely. "I remember."

"Good. Now, let's eat," she added, pointing to the cooling food.

Castle decided to regain a little of the moral high ground by picking on Kate. "This is not the precinct, Beckett. We do not eat standing up like animals," he said, propelling her towards a stool so she could sit down next to Alexis. "We have table manners and…"

Kate got back up from her chair and turned her back on him, displaying the back of her shirt. Alexis sniggered loudly. Castle just sighed resignedly.

"Point taken. Now sit down and eat, Kate," he said with genuine affection. "You're obviously starving."

* * *

They decided to watch the movie _The Artist_. Well, Alexis and Kate decided. Castle was out voted as usual.

"This is boring," he complained, picking up his iPad from the coffee table in front of him.

"Shhh," said Kate and Alexis simultaneously, nudging him from either side.

"A silent movie. _Really?_" he said again, much to their annoyance. "Why don't we just want Inception again…_with the sound down_," he moaned dramatically.

"Castle," said Kate finally, her patience wearing a little thin. "Come here."

He scooted closer to Kate, laying a hand on her thigh as he leaned up against her. "Yes?" he asked with hope in his eyes.

"Be quiet for the rest of the movie and…" a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"_And?_" he asked a little breathlessly, eyes sparkling.

Kate leaned closer to whisper in his ear, covering her mouth with her hand so Alexis wouldn't hear what she was about to say.

Castle's grin exploded across his face and his eyes danced wildly. "Why didn't you just say?" he asked excitedly.

"Shhh, dad," said Alexis again, throwing him a glare.

Kate tapped his knee with her fingertips and put a finger to her lips to remind him not to speak. He seemed to happily settle down after that, leaving the girls to watch the movie in peace.

"What did you say to him?" asked Alexis later, when she and Kate were putting away the last of the dishes.

"Oh, you don't want to know," said Kate, shaking her head at Castle's daughter.

Alexis blushed. "Sorry. You must hate me for being in the way all the ti…"

"Hey," said Kate gently, silencing her with a hand on her forearm. "Where's this coming from?"

"You guys probably just want to be alone and I'm…"

"No one is in the way here. Do you hear me?" she asked Alexis, turning her firmly by the shoulders to face her. "_I'm_ the one who's the incomer," added Kate. "So if anyone is in the way. Then it's me."

"No. Never," said Alexis fiercely. "You made everything better round here. My dad is…" she looked across at Castle, who was now sleeping quietly on the sofa, "_insanely_ happy with you, and much less stressed about me going away to college. We're both lucky to have you Kate."

"Not half as lucky as I am," replied Kate, pulling Alexis into a loose hug. "Do you want to wake the beast or shall I?" she asked once they pulled apart.

"I think I'll leave that honor to you," said Alexis. "Time I went to bed. Thanks for letting me hang…"

Kate interrupted her again. "Lex, lets just drop this, shall we? And agree that we're both lucky. I think there's enough of your dad for us both to share. Though maybe we won't tell him we've been arguing over him. That ego of his doesn't need anymore stroking," joked Kate.

"You know him so well," laughed Alexis. Then more seriously she said, "Night, Kate. And have fun with the FBI."

"Oh, I think it's your dad who'll have all the fun. He's a sucker for their cool toys," she admitted and Alexis laughed. "Yeah, he told me earlier. He thinks you don't know."

"Figures. There's a lot he thinks I don't know. Let's keep this one to ourselves, okay?"

* * *

Once Alexis had gone upstairs, Kate did one final sweep of the kitchen before turning out the lights. She tiptoed over to the sofa and her sleeping partner. Castle's iPad had slipped out of his hand and was lying precariously close to the edge of the leather cushions. She reached down to retrieve it only to find his broad fingers curling around her wrist and holding on.

He smiled lazily up at her, blinking slowly in the lamplight.

"I thought you were asleep," said Kate, a little surprised.

"Got me out of doing dishes, right?" he grinned cheekily, struggling to sit upright on the sofa. "Neat trick I learned from my mother. _So_, you and Alexis were fighting over me?" he said cockily.

Kate looked appalled. "You _heard_ that?" she asked, incredulous. "That was supposed to be _private_. Between Lex and me."

"Come on Kate. We live in an open plan loft space. Unless you close a door, assume nothing around here is private. And even then…I think Martha can hear through walls," he whispered, amused by her look of horror. "Anyway, I think it's sweet, and you're really good to her. So am I forgiven?" he asked, bright blue puppy dog eyes pleading.

"What, for eavesdropping or for avoiding the dishes?" asked Kate, ruffling his hair indulgently.

"Both?" he said hopefully.

"Come on," said Kate, holding out her hand to him. "Take me to bed and show me what you can do, Richard Castle. Then maybe I'll think about forgiving you."

"Oh, I like your negotiating style, Detective. Very FBI. Give me five minutes and I'm sure I won't be the only one doing a little begging tonight. Now get in there," he said, slapping Kate on the ass, "and strip."

Kate stifled a giggle as he chased after her into the bedroom. They skidded across the wooden floor, clothes scattering to the four corners of the bedroom and soon Kate was pinned to the bed beneath Castle's strong body. Her arms were pinned high above her head while he launched a heated attack on her neck, legs spread apart by the muscular thigh separating them.

"Forgive me now?" he whispered, as his tongue worked sinful circles around her right nipple, teasing it to a hard peak.

Kate squeaked, trying to retain some control. She spoke through clenched teeth. "No…could to better." She laughed when he gasped in horror at the suggestion that she was rating his performance.

Castle growled, trailing his lips even lower, planting a line of hot little kisses from her navel down her belly, making her squirm. Goosebumps rose along the cool surface of her skin and her eyes were screwed tightly shut against the delicious, aching ecstasy of his assault.

"What about now?" he asked, spreading her legs wider with his knee.

"Rick," Kate whimpered, pulling her arms free from his grasp to wrap around his neck. "If you don't enter me right now, I swear to God I will _never_ forgi…"

His mouth smothered the last of her demand, and he did as she asked, thrusting inside her, sending tremors through his entire body. God she was spectacular, he thought, as they moved together, watching one another through lust-drugged eyes.

* * *

Later, wrapped up in his arms, Kate sighed, the little high-pitched song freeing itself from her throat against her will.

"You okay?" asked Castle, holding her closer and leaning in to tenderly kiss her temple.

"Hmmm. More than," mumbled Kate, still buzzed from sex, her body tingling all over.

"Jordan Shaw knows about us," she said suddenly in the dark.

"What? _How?_" asked Castle sounding a little startled.

"She's a profiler. At least that's line she used on me today…_again_…_smugly!_ I guess she just reads people well and…"

"_Again?_" asked Castle, distracted by the way Kate's fingers were stroking the fine hairs on his arm.

"Yeah, you remember? That time in her car when you wouldn't stop playing with her…_toys_, and she asked how long we'd been sleeping together?"

"Oh, yes, that. When we…_weren't,_" they both said together, laughing.

"I was mortified," said Kate.

"Me too. I mean there _I_ was, best selling novelist following around this insanely hot detective and we weren't even…I mean, _my reputation_," he said with mock outrage.

Kate laughed quietly and dug an elbow into his ribs. "Jerk," she muttered, tugging his arm closer around her.

"But I'm _your_ jerk, Kate," he added, kissing her bare shoulder. "And you love me."

"Good job too. Who else would have you?" she teased, turning over to rest her chin on his chest, loving the way his eyes glinted in the dark of the bedroom as he watched her.

"I'll have you know, Detective, that there are queues of…"

"Eh, I'd quit while you're ahead, Rick," said Kate, silencing him with her lips. "And we should really get some sleep, stud. Big day tomorrow."

"Big day?" asked Castle.

"Yeah, me and the boy have a bet going. How long it's going to take before Gates throws Jordan and her team out of the precinct. I've got twenty on tomorrow."

"Why'd nobody tell me about this little wager?" asked Castle, sounding aggrieved.

"Guys reckon you can't keep a secret. I told them you could, but they insisted."

"We'll see about that," said Castle indignantly.

"Okay, well that's tomorrow sorted. We were up before six this morning, after about three hours sleep. Can we _please_ try to get a few more hours tonight?" asked Kate, turning on her side and tugging him with her.

"I can keep a secret," he groused in the dark.

"I know, baby," soothed Kate. "Now hush. Time to sleep," she muttered as Castle smarted behind her and she stifled a yawn.

After a few quiet moments Kate mumbled, "Rick, stop thinking. You're keeping me awake."

"I really am great at keeping secrets, Kate," he repeated, sounding very put out.

"I know you are. Took you nearly three years to tell me you loved me. And that's a pretty big secret," she said, lifting his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles.

He sighed, and her mouth curved into a smile.

"No, _that _was just stupid," he said, folding her closer into his body.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked finally, desperate to put this behind them now.

"What?"

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Promise. Now what is it?"

"No, you have to swear, Castle, like you mean it," said Kate, insistently.

"Okay, I swear, Kate. I swear. Now what's the secret?" he asked eagerly.

"I'm exhausted."

"Yeah, and…?"

"That's it."

"What, that's it? That's the secret? You're exhausted?"

Kate laughed out loud, the sound rippling through the darkness at his frustration.

"I wouldn't tell the boys that…or Gates or Shaw – sign of weakness. So it's a secret. You think you can keep it to yourself?" she asked, giggling when he tweaked her sides.

"You're lucky I love you or I'd kick you out of bed for that lame ass excuse of a secret."

"Fine. But now you have one to keep, can we get some sleep?"

"_Fine_," huffed Castle, snuggling in at her back.

Within seconds their breathing had slowed. Within minutes they were both sleeping soundly, and remained like that until morning.


	12. Chapter 12 There's An App For That?

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 12 – There's An App For That?_

"Shit," said Kate, tugging on Castle's elbow to pull him back behind a pillar.

They were near the entrance to the precinct. Kate had parked the Crown Vic out front since she and Castle planned to visit Caitlin William's modeling agency sometime that morning.

"What?" he asked, eyeing her with concern.

"Gates, she's…look, just crossing the street over there," said Kate, pointing to the unmistakably erect, clipped walk of their boss as she headed across from the Subway.

"So we, _what?_ Hide out here until she goes upstairs? Go in separately because you're ashamed to be seen with me or…"

"Morning Castle, Detective Beckett," said a loud, humor-filled voice from behind them. "You two wouldn't be hiding out here, from say…oh I don't know, a certain _Captain_, perhaps?" teased Jordan Shaw, recognizing perfectly well what they were up to.

"When you say it like that it sounds so…"

"_Lame?_" offered the FBI Agent.

"I was going to say childish, but yeah, lame works too," said Kate, her cheeks a little flushed.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she already knows about you two, you know. Shall we?" asked Jordan, tipping her head towards the entrance.

The three of them headed inside. Safety in numbers Castle reasoned. While Kate figured Jordan Shaw's appearance was likely to rub Gates up the wrong way the instant she spotted her, and then she'd forget all about Kate and Castle.

By a cosmic quirk of timing, the four of them ended up in the elevator together. The awkward silence that followed the brief chorus of 'good mornings' was punctuated by the loud yawn Kate barely managed to stifle.

"_Someone_ had a good night," said Jordan Shaw pointedly, her voice teasing and mischievous. A broad grin spread across her face as she turned to look at Kate, who was hovering in the back corner of the elevator car next to Castle.

Kate glared back at Jordan, telegraphing '_shut up'_ with her eyes. But the FBI Agent just grinned back at her, and then strode out of the elevator at a happy trot, drawing a puzzled stare from Gates.

"Am I missing something, Detective?" asked the Captain, turning to stare at Kate and then Castle.

"No, Sir," they chorused, causing her to stare even harder at them.

"Do not mess with me, Mr. Castle," she warned, picking on the writer, and wagging a finger in his face. "Or it will be the last thing you do around here."

Before Castle could even open his mouth to protest she had taken off after Jordan Shaw, leaving them both stunned and speechless.

"That was _so_ _unfair!_" he squeaked eventually. "What did _I_ do?"

"This time, I have to agree with you. Come on. Let's track down that model agency's address and get the hell out of here," said Kate, dragging him behind her by the cuff of his jacket.

* * *

"They're talking in her office," hissed Ryan, when they got to Kate's desk.

"Who?" asked Kate, making Ryan jump.

"Gates and Shaw."

"Dude they're laughing. Whatcha think that means?" asked Esposito, peering out from behind a file cabinet to watch the two women converse in Gates' office.

"Means whoever had money on _today_ is losing twenty bucks," said Castle, arching an eyebrow at Kate.

"You _told_ him?" asked Esposito, turning accusatory eyes on his boss.

"We don't have any secrets, Espo," said Castle smugly, sidling up behind Kate and laying his hands on her waist possessively.

Kate elbowed Castle sharply in the stomach, and he doubled over coughing. "_Really?_" he gasped, staring at his partner.

"Yes, _really,_" said Kate, "We're at _work_."

"They're coming out," hissed Ryan, sliding into his seat just as Gates and Shaw appeared together to address the troops.

* * *

"Detectives," said Gates, eyeing them all suspiciously, before adding, "and _Mr. Castle_," with a disappointed tone in her voice. "Agent Shaw and I have agreed to a division of the workload on this case. Since the two homicide victims were found in our back yard, we will pursue those cases, keeping our FBI cousins up to speed on any new developments."

"What about the other missing twins," asked Kate. "I mean we all agreed yesterday that the cases are connected, right?"

"Correct," interjected Jordan Shaw, "but since my team has a head start I think it best if they continue to work

on those."

"Fresh eyes," said Kate.

"What was that, Detective Beckett?" asked Jordan, challenging Kate to repeat what she said.

"I said, what about fresh eyes? _We_," she added, sweeping her hand around her colleagues, "haven't been staring at those missing person files for the best part of a year and a half. Maybe we can bring something new to the table?" she suggested.

"Work the homicides for now. The cases will intersect. You won't be short of work, believe me," said Jordan, cutting Kate off.

She walked across to Agent Matthews, who had been sitting quietly at the back of the bullpen, out of sight of the rest of the team. He handed her three small boxes, which Jordan was quick to distribute to Ryan, Esposito and Kate.

"These are the latest FBI issue tablets, optimized with our own software." Turning to Castle she said archly, "And yes, Mr. Castle, there _is_ an app for that!"

Castle looked on enviously as Kate and the boys unpacked the FBI gadgets from their boxes. He felt like the kid who was last to be picked for the team…hell, he felt like the odd man out who _never_ got picked for the team.

Kate got up, circled the desk, and defiantly handed Castle '_her_' tablet before going back to sit in her chair. The move did not go unnoticed by Captain Gates, but instead of reprimanding Kate, she silently approved of her detective's boldness in the face of Jordan Shaw.

"Do _not_ lose these," was the first instruction Jordan drawled out as she looked from one NYPD detective to the other. "Agent Matthews will give you a crash course on the software. You find fingerprints, need to photograph a crime scene, want help identifying trace in the field, then you take a photo and send it directly to our lab for analysis. Identify your request correctly and you should receive a response within twenty-four hours. And, yes, people, that includes DNA. Send physical samples using our sealed mail system. If I haven't turned you all by the end of this case, I will be most surprised," she proclaimed smugly.

Castle looked down at the tablet, eyeing it with barely concealed delight. His enthusiasm was only tempered by the knowledge that this one was actually meant for Kate alone. But he loved that she'd boldly given it to him in front of everyone.

"Agent Reed will provide you with login I.D.'s and input your fingerprints into the Bureau's system in order that you can unlock your tablet and access your account," said Shaw, interrupting Castle's thoughts.

"Mr. Castle, may I suggest that Detective Beckett has control of _your_ toy. I'm sure you two are…_used_ to sharing," she added rather cruelly.

Kate seethed.

"Actually, Agent Shaw, I'd prefer it if my partner was able to use the tablet without me. His attention to detail in the field is invaluable so…" she let the rest of the thought go unsaid, standing her ground defiantly as she stuck up for Castle.

He stared at Kate, disbelieving, a wave of pride washing over him.

Jordan looked at Kate, an eyebrow arched in amusement. "I thought you two were joined at the hip, but whatever you think best, Detective Beckett," she smirked. "Agent Reed, sign them all up," she instructed, turning to walk away.

* * *

"She's toying with us," muttered Kate, her face flaming with anger once Jordan Shaw and Captain Gates had retreated back inside Gates' office. "I confided in her. Told her Gates doesn't know about us. That she'd probably throw you off the team if she finds out."

"Hmmm, that so?" said Castle in a distracted voice, sounding utterly unconcerned. "We got an FBI gadget to play with," he said gleefully, "and the way you stood up for me…" he beamed, squeezing her shoulder briefly, "_so hot_."

Kate smiled back, watching reluctantly as he withdrew his fingers from her shoulder. "Just don't break that thing or I'll never hear the end of it."

"Oh, and Castle," she added, calling him back over with a beckoning finger, "You can pay me back tonight, okay?" she said, with a wink.

"It would be my immense pleasure, Detective Beckett," said Castle, bumping her shoulder with his. "Now let's go get this bad boy set up."

* * *

They traced the Reflections Agency down to the same office building on the corner of East 44th and Madison where Maria and Angelo Fuentes were last seen.

"Can't be a coincidence," said Castle, writing down the address and the suite number.

"No such thing as coincidence, right? That's what you taught me," said Kate, standing up and collecting her light summer jacket. "Let's go find out what's with this mysterious agency," said Kate. "And don't forget to bring your toys with you," she added, nodding at the tablet with an indulgent smile.

"You're gonna be the coolest mom ever," blurted Castle, following her out.

Kate stopped walking so suddenly that he crashed into her back.

Castle stood silently, trying to gauge her reaction, afraid he'd pushed too far. Then he added quietly, "I'm sorry, Kate. That just kind of slipped out. I didn't mean…"

She spun around, looking him directly in the eye, her fingers plucking at his sleeve. "Are you taking it back? What you just said?" she asked softly, her expression open and earnest.

"_No_, I just…" he stammered, thrown by her honest, upfront reaction, and by the fire in her eyes.

Did she really want this? With him?

"Then we're agreed. Coolest mom and dad ever," said Kate, turning away to stride toward the elevator as he hurried after her with the craziest grin on his face.

* * *

They parked a block away, striding up Madison in the late morning sunshine. Kate had her sunglasses on, the large, dark orbs covering a good portion of her face. She was grateful for the protection they provided from the glare that bounced off the glass windows of storefronts and the mirrored office buildings that formed the manmade canyon that was Midtown.

Castle had been surprisingly quiet the whole car ride up. Kate sneaked glances at him as they walked north, towards East 44th Street, her sunglasses aiding and abetting her in this covert activity too. He looked happy, but almost as if he'd retreated somewhere inside his head, and she'd lost him for the time being.

She let him be, just brushing arms or bumping shoulders with him now and again as she swerved to avoid oncoming pedestrians. They could talk about this later. The discussion really was long overdue anyway, so it was actually a good thing that he'd brought it up, she told herself, despite the flight of butterflies tickling her insides. Their plans to discuss it on vacation had got pushed aside in favor of what might be called '_practice_' for the main event. Kate felt herself grow warm at the memory of their days and nights on the beach, in their suite, in the hot tub. She hoped Castle wasn't reading her mind right now, because they had work to do, and a playful, sneaky FBI Agent to impress the hell out of.

"You ready?" asked Kate, nudging Castle's arm and angling her head towards the entrance to the office building they were here to visit.

"Sure," he said carefully, as if bringing himself back to the present. "After you."


	13. Chapter 13 Casting Call

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 13 – Casting Call_

The reception area on the 34th floor was bright and funky. A shocking pink wall of colored glass ran the full length of the space behind the reception desk, while the wall opposite was mirrored - a none-too subtle nod to the agency's name,_ 'Reflections'_.

Castle was currently spinning between the two, admiring their own reflected images in the wall behind them.

"Are you here for the BCBG casting session, Miss?" asked the bored looking, twenty-something receptionist, who was sitting behind the desk filing her long red nails.

Kate turned round, looking behind her to see who the girl was speaking to.

Castle nudged her playfully with his shoulder. "She means you, Kate," he said, smiling at her adorably confused expression.

"_Me?_ Oh god, _no_," said Kate quickly. "I'm here…sorry, I mean _we're_ here to see the owner, Veronica Simons. Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD and my partner, Richard Castle," she said, flashing her badge.

The girl evidently wasn't giving up. "Shame, you've got model looks and with your height…" she said, shaking her head as if she thought Kate's assets were going to waste on detective work, before adding, "I'll let Veronica know that you're here," when Kate failed to react.

"Not a word," hissed Kate, before Castle got a chance to open his mouth to tease her.

"I was just going to say…"

"Well, _don't_," interrupted Kate, tugging him over to a white leather sofa that was positioned against the wall.

After a few seconds, Kate leaned over and tapped Castle on the knee.

"What?" he asked, pressing up against her side.

"I'm gonna leave out the part where we tell Veronica Simons that Caitlin Williams is actually dead," whispered Kate discreetly to her partner. "Until the aunt comes in for a formal identification, we'll keep it to ourselves. Okay?"

"Roger that," said Castle, leaning back against the soft leather cushions. "Whatever you think best."

Kate picked up a copy of _Vogue_, flipping listlessly through its glossy pages while they waited to be seen. Castle found a copy of _Variety_, and was soon absorbed by the latest update on weekly box office grosses.

"Did you know that _The Artist_ is still sitting at number _fifty-four_ in the top 100 movies?" he asked, his voice rising higher as he spoke. "And it's taken…shit, _how much_?" he squeaked, squinting at the page.

"Wish you'd paid more attention last night, Castle?" drawled Kate in amusement.

When he looked up at her his eyes were dancing mischievously. "Oh no. I saved _all_ my attention for the main attraction," he said, giving her a heated look that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Sweat prickled between her breasts despite the cool breeze coming from the air conditioning in the reception area.

When he finally looked back down at his magazine, Kate had to pass a hand over her eyes just to clear away some of the images he'd just reinstalled there, and he hadn't even said anything!

"Forty-four million dollars in receipts so far," he whistled, evidently back to railing against the success of the 'silent movie' he'd rejected the night before.

"Detective Beckett?" asked a cool, professional sounding, female voice, interrupting Castle's movie review.

* * *

When Kate looked up from the magazine she'd been reading she found that her eye line only reached level with the woman's stomach. She continued to trail her gaze upwards, as Castle was no doubt doing too, until she reached this human glamazon's face.

Kate rose from the sofa to shake the woman's hand and was momentarily thrown by the unfamiliar experience of having to look up to meet the other woman's eyes. Castle was really the only person she routinely looked up to, in a physical sense, and for another woman to be taller than her, particularly when she was wearing a pair of four inch Steve Madden heels, was an unpleasant novelty.

Castle stuck his hand out after Kate, nudging her in the ribs when the woman invited them to follow her to her office.

"Freak of nature," he hissed in Kate's ear as they walked behind Veronica Simons down a vivid, lime green hallway.

"Shhh," admonished Kate, unable to conceal the grin that sneaked its way onto her face as she bumped him back with her hip.

His fingers tangled momentarily with hers as they followed the unnaturally tall, sashaying blonde down the catwalk-like corridor, and Kate's breath caught in her throat at his touch. She swallowed hard as Castle released her, blinking furiously, trying to cool her heated cheeks.

How did she ever do this without him, she wondered? How had they lasted so long apart? She was thankful that was something she wouldn't have to think about anymore, now that there was this, this amazing thing between them that they could cherish, and work on, and god they were so lucky she had to fight the urge to tell him right there and then.

* * *

Kate nearly collided with the blonde when she stopped suddenly and then pivoted on her heels to enter a large, glassed in office.

The whole scene was eerily reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada, thought Kate when they entered the office, though she would never _ever_ admit to having seen the movie. And certainly not to having seen it twice, though the second time was really Maddie's fault.

A long window ran the length of the far wall, overlooking Madison Avenue. The side walls were lined with framed photographs – a selection of small, stylish, personal black and whites were tiled across the left hand side, and on the right were larger, framed, campaign shots from a variety of the agency's client brands: Gap, Tommy Hilfiger, Dior, Saks and Cadillac among them.

Her glass-topped desk was huge, almost double the size of Kate's, and she had a beautiful clear glass vase of fleshy white tulips positioned on one corner. The surface was mercifully free of the dusty police files and clutter that Kate had to deal with. A silver, framed photograph of Veronica herself, reclining in a white swimsuit on a bearskin rug, from back in her own modeling days by the look of it, graced the other corner of the desk. And a sleek, white leather office chair sat behind it with its back to the window.

Castle wondered idly how the woman ever got anything done with a view like that behind her.

"Please, take a seat, Detectives," she said, indicating the two comfortable looking armchairs on the near side of her desk.

Castle glanced at Kate, waiting for her to sit, before he allowed himself to do the same. Damn chivalrous man.

As Veronica sat down and folded her long legs beneath her desk, the split in her purple and red Diane von Furstenberg dress slipped open to reveal a large expanse of tan thigh. Kate had to drag her eyes away from the view on display beneath the glass-topped table to address the woman directly. She decided not to hazard a guess as to where Castle's eyes might be focused right now.

"Mr. Castle is my partner, Ms. Simons," clarified Kate, "but he's a consultant to the NYPD, not a Detective."

"Ah, I'm sorry," said the woman, nodding at Castle. "Funny thing is, _he_ looks more like the cop. _You_ look like you belong in one of these," she said, pointing to one of the framed pieces of artwork on her wall.

Kate smiled tightly. "Thank you, but I'm quite happy chasing after bad guys," she said, feeling Castle nudge her foot with his.

"My loss," said Veronica Simons, "I have models who'd kill for a look like yours," she added, then flushing a little she corrected herself, "Sorry, _kill for_ was maybe a bad choice of words, given present company. How can I help you today?" she asked, getting the meeting back on track.

"We've come to ask about one of your models, actually. A twenty-one year old by the name of Caitlin Williams," said Kate, pulling a photograph out of the black leather folder on her lap.

She handed the shot to Veronica Simons and waited while she studied it for a few brief seconds.

"Caitlin, yes. Such a promising talent," said Veronica, running her fingertips over the surface of the photograph. "She and her twin brother were a big hit with a couple of our fashion scouts. Picked them right out of the crowd on…"

"Fifth Avenue. Yes, we heard," said Kate. "Was she on your books for long?"

"Let me see? We signed them both up the summer before last. They'd just turned nineteen, which is late in this industry. But they didn't really look their age and the skinny, Scandinavian thing is so popular my clients ate them up. The camera loved them too."

"So you signed them both together?" asked Castle. "We were under the impression only Caitlin was modeling."

"No, she did a few jobs by herself just because there's way more work for girls than there is for boys. But most of the client demand was for the two of them working as a double act. You know, that kind of incestuous, androgynous, boy-girl look?" drawled the woman, seeming entirely unperturbed by what she'd just said.

Kate frowned. "I'm not really…_familiar_ with that look, no. But then…" she trailed off, shook her head and continued with her questioning. "How did the twins seem to you, when they worked together, I mean?"

"Close. _Very_ close. Even when Caitlin was the only one required for a job, Michael came along too. At first I thought he was trying to get more face time with the bookers, in the hope of getting more work. But then it became clear that he just followed her around. They seemed to do everything together. Are they okay? I mean you haven't really explained why you're here, and the Williams haven't worked for me in months. I just assumed they'd decided to focus on school. They were both talented musicians, you see."

"Yes, we _are_ aware of that," confirmed Kate. "When did you last see either or both of them?" she asked, flipping open her notebook and uncapping her pen while she studiously avoided answering the woman's question.

"Well, I'd have to check to be sure. But the last campaign they both worked on was for Calvin Klein. An underwear shoot. Simple, well-cut, black product, shot against pale skin, long limbs, blond hair…you get the picture," she said enthusiastically, looking at Castle.

He simply nodded but didn't say anything.

"And this was _when_?" asked Kate.

"Last June, I think. Yes, June. They both got a call back for a Benetton campaign a couple of months later; things have been slower since the recession. But then the client pulled the budget, decided to stick it in Europe instead. I never heard from them after that."

"And you had no cause to try to contact them?" asked Kate.

"Oh no, we did. I called to get their feedback on the Benetton audition, and then a few weeks later to offer Caitlin a perfume ad for _Joop!_ Studio work. But I couldn't get hold of her."

Veronica Simons seemed to think for a moment, and then she snapped out of it, saying brightly, "Happens all the time in this industry. People get bored, move on, change city. It's easy money, but you're expected to be highly groomed at all times, keep your weight down, available for work at short notice, travel wherever you're needed, and all the hanging around gets to some people. Those two were lucky they had each other. It kept some of the shallower elements of this game away from them."

"Did you ever hear how the Benetton call back went?" asked Castle, drawing the woman's attention back to her diary.

"No. As I said, they went to the Ad Agency to meet with the Campaign Manager, near the beginning of September I think it was. But when the budget disappeared, so did my interest I'm afraid. Why?" she asked Castle.

"Oh, no reason," he replied, looking pointedly at Kate.

"Do you know _where_ they went to meet this client?" she asked.

"They met with the Advertising Agency, not the client directly," corrected Veronica. "I think they were based in this building for a while. But I'm not sure if they're still here. Office space is expensive on Madison, Detective, and when clients start pulling their budgets out of the US, well…" she made a sucking noise with her teeth and shook her blond hair.

"Can you remember the name of the Ad Agency by any chance?"

"Eh, Arrow, Arriett…Ararat? Something like that," she said, waving a slim hand with an enormous, sparkling, engagement ring dangling from her finger. "We deal with so many. But that _was_ our first time sending girls to this particular one."

"Why was that? Were they new?"

"I..._actually_, it was Caitlin who brought the job to our attention. She said she'd seen an ad for the casting session in a magazine, and she asked if it was okay if she and Michael went up for it. The client was looking for twins, and these kids were so honest, they didn't want to be working for someone else off the books without our permission."

"And you okayed it?" asked Kate.

"Yes. My assistant spoke to someone at Ararat, I think. Sorry, that's all I can remember. As I said, when the budget goes, I lose interest, Detective."

"Just one final question," asked Kate. "Do you also represent a Maria Fuentes?"

"The TV presenter?" asked Veronica.

"Yes, that's right," confirmed Kate. "Do you know her?"

"I know _of_ her, but only because my daughter liked to watch that Disney show she presented. We only deal with models here, Detective Beckett. We're not a talent agency. And Maria Fuentes' look wouldn't appeal to our…_clientele_," she added, a little reluctantly. "Sorry I can't be of more help."

"Oh, no. You've been a great help," said Kate, rising to shake the tall woman's hand.

"My pleasure. You ever get tired of hunting down criminals, Detective, you be sure and give me a call," she said to Kate, beaming her camera-ready, once-a-model, always-a-model's smile.

Castle smiled proudly at his girlfriend, while Kate modestly shook her head and withdrew from the room.

* * *

"Hey, Supermodel?" he teased, catching up with Kate as she waited for the elevator. "Wanna grab some lunch, or are you on some kind of model-induced, starvation diet?"

Kate looked at him in amusement.

"How long are you going to keep this up, Castle?"

"Oh, I don't know. Could have a bit of mileage to it," he joked, pressing his fingers to her back as the doors opened and Kate stepped into the car ahead of him.

"If you value our relationship, you'll drop it right here," said Kate sweetly, biting her lip as she waited for his reply.

"Hey, a guy can't be proud of his beautiful, cop girlfriend?" he asked, boldly squeezing her ass.

"A guy can be proud and keep his mouth shut at the same time. And you said it yourself, Castle, _cop_. I'm a cop, not some vacant clothes horse."

"But you're also beautiful and sexy and you just got propositioned _twice _in the span of one meeting. And you _have_ modeled before, as I seem to recall."

Kate sucked in a ragged breath. "_They told you? _I'm gonna kill them."

"Oh, relax. You looked cute in your little tennis whites."

"It was _one_ summer," hissed Kate, "and I was seventeen."

"Yeah, easier than waitressing, yada yada. The guys filled me in," said Castle, smirking.

"They are _so_ dead," said Kate, striding out of the elevator when the doors opened on ground level.

"So…_lunch_?" he called after her, having to run to catch up.

But Kate's phone rang just as they hit the warm air out on the sidewalk.

"Beckett? Agent Shaw," said Kate, rolling her eyes at Castle. "Sure, be right in. We're on our way back now."

"Lab found something. They want us back there. We'll get something to eat on the way."

"Kate, about the…"

She caught Castle by elbow and gently drew him to a stop against the wall.

"We leave the whole modeling thing at the door of that building back there. _You_ never mention it again, and_ I_ never mention it again, and Ryan and Esposito remain clueless. Do we understand each other?" she asked, a forced smile on her lips.

"I…I think we most certainly do," stammered Castle, entranced by the way Kate was running her nails up and down his abs as she spoke, driving him absolutely crazy.

Her eyes were mesmerizing as she watched him endure her little impromptu torture session, exerting a considerable amount of power over him in the process.

"Good," said Kate in a clipped voice, pulling abruptly away. "Now let's get some food. I'm starving."

_Thoughts anyone?_


	14. Chapter 14 A Little Light Weeding

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

**Apologies for the delay. Life, work, and "Always" got in the way. Still reeling, squealing and smiling.**

* * *

_Chapter 14 – A Little Light Weeding_

When they stopped at a diner near Union Square, Kate chose the greasiest, most unhealthy thing on the menu in a very obvious attempt to prove her point about the whole modeling thing.

Castle watched in amazement as the meat juices from her double cheeseburger dribbled down her chin, before being deftly and delicately caught by Kate's paper napkin.

"Put your tongue away, Castle," she said, without even looking over at him.

He did as he was told, only realizing after she said it that his tongue had indeed been hovering outside his lips, just waiting, hoping for the opportunity to lick that juice right off her face.

They were sitting in her Crown Vic, parked up in front of the precinct, hurriedly finishing off their lunch before going in to join Agent Shaw and the boys.

"You think Maria Fuentes was up for that Benetton campaign too?" asked Castle, as he tried valiantly to focus on his own lunch and tear his eyes away from Kate's glistening lips.

"Veronica Simons said the agency was looking for twins, so I guess that makes sense. The security footage showed her entering the building with _her_ twin, Angelo. And we don't know of any other reason why that pair might have been going into that particular building that day."

"So I guess our next step is to track down that Ad Agency," said Castle, wiping his mouth and then balling up the trash from his lunch. "Find out who's running it."

"Look at you, thinking like a real cop," teased Kate, nudging him with her elbow, a smile full of warmth on her face.

"Why, Detective, was that an _actual_ compliment?" asked Castle.

"Hey, _I_ pay you compliments," said Kate, sounding a little indignant, but also just a little hesitant.

She did, didn't she? Because Castle was always complimenting _her_. Her mind began working overtime, trying to remember, threatening to brand her the worst, most ungenerous, undemonstrative girlfriend ever. She relaxed, with a rush of air from her lungs, when a recent example finally came to mind.

"Have you already forgotten the high praise I whispered in your ear around midnight last night?" she asked, shooting him a shy, playful look.

"_Oh, no_. _That_ I will _never_ forget," said Castle, his chest puffing up with pride.

"Right, glad _that's_ sorted. Lets go face the music in there, lover boy. See what Agent Shaw has for us this time. And if she so much as _hints_ about you and me in front of Gates, I swear to God, Rick, I'm gonna get the drop on her so fast her head will spin. FBI or not," said Kate fiercely.

* * *

The boys were in the break room finishing off their lunch when Kate and Castle got back to her desk.

"I'm gonna try and track down that Ararat mob," said Kate, dropping her gun into her drawer and hanging her jacket over the back of her chair. "Wanna get us some coffee?" she asked hopefully, lightly grazing her fingertips over Castle's knuckles.

"You know just which buttons to push, Beckett," he smiled. "Coffee coming right up."

"Ah, Detective Beckett. And _Mr. Castle_. If it isn't our dynamic duo," said Agent Shaw with a cat-like grin, appearing at Kate's desk on feet as silent as a ninja.

"How does she _do_ that?" mouthed Castle at Kate, who was currently gritting her teeth and balling her fists to avoid fulfilling her earlier promise.

"I'm glad you're both here. We were just about to start. Wouldn't want you to _miss_ anything. I'm sure Mr. Castle's attention to detail will yield some impressive results in this case…_if_ he can tear his eyes away from you long enough to focus," she smirked at Kate.

Kate had reached her limit; finally had enough of the teasing, poking and prodding.

"A word, Agent Shaw?" she said, her cheeks a little flushed, steering the grinning FBI woman out into the hallway by her elbow.

Castle watched them leave with a concerned look on his face.

A catfight, over him, between two hot women would ordinarily be his idea of heaven. But Kate was so steamed about this, and this was her workplace, so he felt compelled to step in. Well, almost…

"Jordan, what are you doing?" asked Kate, one hand resting on her hip as she leant up against the wall.

"I don't know what you mean, Detective?" said Jordan, feigning innocence and still smiling infuriatingly at Kate.

"Oh, I think you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, and I want it to stop. _Today_. Castle's worked damn hard to earn the right to be here, given up countless hours of his own time, and put himself in danger to back me and my team up more times than I want to think about. What you're doing puts _my_ partnership in jeopardy. And while it might be _fun_ to you…I'm getting pretty tired of it. So how about you just _back off_ and leave us alone to get on with our job?"

"_Relax_, Kate," said Jordan, patting her patronizingly on the shoulder, her smile still firmly in place. "Captain already _knows_ about your little _romance _with your _'partner'_," she said, throwing sarcastic little quote marks around the word partner. "She's ex-IAB, Detective," she added, in response to Kate's raised eyebrow. "And you think the rest of us can't all see the hot glances and the secret little touches you two can't help sharing? Come on, Kate. We're not idiots. And Gates is no dummy either. But she can see how well you two work together. So, unless he screws up on the job…and I mean, _really_ screws up, then I reckon your partnership is safe for now."

Kate looked a little stunned. Jordan was enjoying this way too much for her liking.

"Just…don't go making out in the supply closet, and I think she'll ignore what happens outside of work," advised Jordan, patting Kate's arm and walking away.

"And you couldn't have told me this earlier? Instead of torturing me?" asked Kate, catching her by the elbow.

"What would be the fun in that?" asked Jordan, with a smirk. "Now, let's get back to work," she said, walking back into the bullpen.

"What happened? What she say?" asked Castle, when Kate wandered back to her desk looking a little dazed.

"Gates knows, and apparently, she's okay with it," said Kate, stealing a furtive look at the Captain's office.

"_Really?_"

"Yes," said Kate, her face relaxing into a genuine smile. "Really. And I had no idea how much this was bothering me until now," she confessed to her partner. "But let's not push it, hmm. Keep the touching and the staring to a minimum, okay?"

"I'll try," said Castle, sitting on his hands as he leant back on Kate's desk.

"Don't try, Rick. Just do it," said Kate, nudging his foot with the toe of her shoe. "Think of it this way – it'll make things so much hotter when we get home," she promised, nodding in unison with Castle when he took a moment to think about what she'd just said, and a massive grin broke out across his face.

"Deal," he said, handing her a cup of coffee as the rest of the team gathered around the murder board.

* * *

"Okay, so we got the report back from the crime lab on the Caitlin Williams' burial site," said Captain Gates, handing copies of the crime lab report to Ryan to distribute amongst the team.

"The scene analysts gathered a large number of items from the immediate area around the body, including beer cans, cigarette butts, condoms, even a pair of ladies' lace panties."

Esposito emitted a low whistle and Gates shot him a death glare before carrying on.

"As you can imagine, that meant numerous donors, none of whom appear in CODIS. We also got casts of several pairs of shoe prints. The lab is running those through the database as I speak looking for a match. Our only profitable piece of evidence at this point was a piece of plant life found tucked up in the shroud."

"How's that gonna help?" asked Esposito.

"Because it was alien to the scene, apparently," explained Gates.

"Are we sure it wasn't from the burial site?" asked Kate, eyes skimming the report. "That place was littered with leaves, moss and weeds," she pointed out.

"No. According to the lab, this was a piece of Japanese Knotweed, which is an invasive non-native plant," interjected Jordan Shaw. "The forensic techs are consulting a biologist, a specialist in plant neurobiology."

"I know," said Gates, to Kate's raised eyebrow. "Apparently, they can sequence the DNA of weeds these days, and since Japanese Knotweed was eradicated from Central Park five years ago when they redeveloped The Lake, they're anxious to find out where it came from, and make sure it doesn't spread."

"So, it's just a weed?" asked Ryan, his brow knitting into a frown. "We're pinning our investigation on a weed?"

"This particular weed is on the Wanted List of conservationists – one of the top 100 Worst Invasive Species. The Central Park Conservancy got rid of it and they don't want it back on their patch. If we can find out where it came from, then we can track where Caitlin Williams' body was wrapped up in that shroud, which may lead us to where she was living or being held. It's not much as leads go, but it's the only thing we have right now," said Agent Shaw.

"How rare is it? And how soon will they know?" asked Kate.

"Quantico can deliver results of that nature in a few days," said Jordan Shaw. "You'll hear as soon as I do. But that weed _has_ invaded 39 states, so it is the proverbial needle in a haystack."

"Great," muttered Ryan, rolling his eyes.

"Tox screen also came back on Caitlin and Baby Williams. Both had traces of Betamethasone in their systems," said Gates.

"What's that when it's at home?" asked Castle.

"A corticosteroid, Mr. Castle. One of its uses is to aid fetal lung maturation when there's a risk of preterm labor, or so I'm told."

"How would that have been delivered?" asked Kate.

"Intravenously or subcutaneously, according to the M.E. Give it to the mother and it crosses the placenta to treat the fetus. Although so far, she's been unable to find an injection site on the body, possibly indicating that it was administered several days before Caitlin went into labor, so the needle mark had healed over."

"It proves she was being cared for by someone though. That her pregnancy was being closely monitored," said Kate.

"Yes, but it doesn't fit with the way the body was disposed of, or the baby's body for that matter, and it also strengthens our case for negligent homicide. If whoever was looking after her knew that she was in trouble, that her pregnancy was high risk, and they failed to seek proper medical attention…"

"They would also need access to drugs, maybe even screening equipment," suggested Castle.

"You thinking clinic?" asked Kate, turning to her partner.

"Or a private doctor," said Castle, as they fell into their own private back-and-forth, oblivious to the rest of the team watching them.

"We should speak to Lanie. Find out how the risk of preterm labor is established. The signs and symptoms," said Kate. "We also need to find out how easy it is to get hold of that steroid," she added, unconsciously reaching out to touch Castle's forearm.

"You can buy almost anything online these days," reminded Jordan Shaw. "And it's not like corticosteroids are a controlled substance. Given a little medical knowledge, our perp could probably have managed this situation without too much outside help."

"Until she went into labor and things started to go wrong," said Castle. "First with the baby, and then with the mother."

"What did you two find out when you visited the model agency?" asked Gates, turning to address Kate.

"Both Caitlin _and_ her brother modeled for the agency. Some big client brands too. But they stopped working there over a year ago. The owner just assumed they were focusing on their studies. She did mention a call back they got for a campaign with Benetton. They met with someone from the Ad Agency, which was based in the same building. But when the campaign was cancelled because of a budget issue, Reflections backed off."

"Anything else?" asked Gates.

"It was Caitlin who brought that campaign to her attention. There was an ad in a magazine specifically looking for twins."

"Do we know which magazine?"

"No. But I have a call into her assistant. She was the one who dealt with Caitlin in relation to that particular casting."

"Okay. Keep me posted. Anything else?"

"She said the twins were very close. Went everywhere together. Michael was like Caitlin's shadow. Even went on jobs she was working alone. We asked her about Maria and Angelo Fuentes, but she said they weren't signed with her agency. Wouldn't appeal to her clients, apparently. So Castle suggested maybe they were up for the Benetton campaign too, given they were twins and they had to have some reason to visit the same building," said Kate, giving her partner credit.

"And what about this advertising agency? Did you find them yet?" asked Gates.

"No, that's our next job - to track them down. They were renting space in the same building, but we have no idea if they're still there."

"Okay. Well let's step this up before the trail gets any colder. I want LUDS and Tolls on all of the missing twins' phones. Agent Shaw, I assume you pulled those already? I need you to share that information with my team?"

Jordan Shaw nodded and began tapping on her FBI tablet. "Already done, Captain."

"Ryan you take that," she instructed. "Let's look into their financials, people. Credit histories, loan applications, checking accounts, credit cards. Look at all of it. Dig under every rock. There has to be a reason these people were targeted. I need you to find it. Let's look for commonalities between each and every one of them. Ways in which their lives may have intersected. _Anything_ that links them together. Let's go people. Time may be running out. I want to crack this thing before anyone else winds up dead," said Gates, clapping her hands together, before shooing them off to get working.

_Thoughts?_


	15. Chapter 15 And The Winner Is

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 15 – And The Winner Is…_

Kate tracked down the advertising agency Veronica Simons had told them about not long after the team meeting broke up.

A simple search told her that Ararat Advertising _was_ still based in the same building as the Reflections model agency, on the corner of Madison and East 44th Street, only on the slightly less lofty 21st floor. While they might have a less spectacular view, it was still in the heart of Midtown, and slap dab in the middle of 'advertising alley'.

Leaving the guys to trawl through the missing twins' phone records and financial reports, Kate and Castle left the Precinct at four to run down the agency lead. Two sets of missing twins had been seen entering that building to attend a casting session, and then the trail went cold. This could be just the opening they were looking for.

* * *

Kate drove as usual, leaving Castle free to hum to himself while she maneuvered the car north on Madison. He looked out the passenger window at the scurrying businessmen and women flocking up and down the sidewalk in various shades of grey-suited uniformity, and let out a content sigh.

"You sound happy," noted Kate, reaching over to briefly brush his knee. "Want to spread the love?" she asked, sending him a teasing glance.

"What? A guy can't be happy in his work?" he asked, smiling back at her, his grin a little crazy.

"Technically this is _my _work," she reminded him.

"Yeah, _even better_. Cool, handsome writer and hot, sexy, lady detective. What's not to be happy about?" he pointed out.

"Eh. We investigate _murders_?" Kate suggested.

"Details," said Castle, flapping his hand vaguely in the air in a manner eerily reminiscent of Martha. "You always have to spoil a good theory with your logic, Kate."

"Castle, _details_ are my stock in trade," she replied, amused by his levity.

"Yeah, and as you told Agent Shaw, _my_ attention to detail…"

Kate interrupted him.

"Ah, so we're back to _Agent Shaw_," she teased, throwing him a dazzlingly smile.

"Oh no, you're not gonna start that again? Jordan and her toys getting on your nerves already, Kate?"

"Nope. I'm over it," said Kate, determinedly.

"_Right_," said Castle, cautiously eyeing her up. "So what's brought this on?"

"Oh, you might go gaga over her tablet computer thingy when we're at work, but _who's_ the one making you beg in bed every night," she asked bluntly, laughing at Castle's sharp intake of breath.

"Why Katherine Beckett, I never. You bad, bad girl," he grinned, delighted with her. "Wanna road test that theory later?" he asked, skimming her forearm with his fingertips.

"What do you think?" she fired back. "But first…there's this. Look, a parking spot. This day just keeps getting better."

* * *

They rode the elevator to the twenty-first floor in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, relaxed in that easy way that was so much _them_ these days.

The elevator doors opened onto another large reception area, fronted by huge glass doors. The words _Ararat Advertising_ were acid etched onto the surface, frosting the glass at chest level with a voguish, san serif script, devoid of any capital letters or punctuation.

Castle sighed and shook his head at this modern taste for trendy typography that was so prevalent these days - an abomination in his eyes.

"Oh, look out. The NYPD's Special Grammar Division just rolled into town," teased Kate, grasping the long chrome handle and pulling the door open. It swung towards her with a hollow _thunk_.

A high, black desk stretched out ahead of them, the receptionist's head barely visible above the parapet. Her swivel chair was obviously mounted on some kind of platform to bring her anywhere near level with the top of the desk.

Kate approached confidently, withdrawing her badge as she addressed the redhead in clear tones.

"I have an appointment with Marcus Devlin," explained Kate. "We're from the NYPD."

"Whom shall I say is here?" asked the young woman, rather formally.

"Detective Kate Beckett and Mr. Richard Castle."

"Please, take a seat. Mr. Devlin will be right out," said the girl, pointing in the direction of a black leather sofa and large oval coffee table.

* * *

In a scene reminiscent of that morning's visit to the Reflections Agency, Castle lifted a copy of Advertising Age and began flicking through its glossy pages, while Kate thumbed a perfect bound portfolio containing some of the agency's most recent work.

Benetton no longer appeared to be a client, if they had ever even been one, since they were conspicuously absent from the catalog of impressive brands.

Kate opened her mouth to speak to Castle just as an incredibly tall, dark haired man appeared in front of them.

'_Where do these agencies find such specimens?_' wondered Kate, as she watched Castle stand up to shake the man's hand, his eyes only reaching level with the giant's mouth.

"Marcus Devlin," he said, his handshake firm and brisk when he addressed them both. "Welcome to Ararat. Please. This way," he added, ushering them along a narrow corridor lined with glassed-in offices until they reached the agency's conference room.

Along the way, they passed by 'Creative'. The edgy two-man teams, because even in this day and age they were still mostly all male, beavered away in their toy-strewn spaces - stress balls, action figures, product samples and crazily crafted storyboards lining the walls and floor. Designer and copywriter worked their alchemy on a dry brief for a serious client while padding around the floor in their socks, shooting hoops into a miniature basket, and eating Singapore noodles out of a carton.

Castle looked longingly through the glass. If he hadn't become a writer, this looked like a lot of fun, and a hell of a way to earn a living without having to wear a suit to work everyday. His eyes alighted on a rainbow selection of colored markers, a smorgasbord of craft supplies, and one of the largest Apple flat screens he had ever seen, and he sighed audibly.

Kate propelled him forwards with a light touch to his back.

* * *

The doors to the conference room opened onto a long view of an enormous table; highly polished, rich, warm wood that stretched all the way from the door to the opposite end of the room. Twenty chairs sat either side, providing enough space for a full NFL team to gather together at the same time.

Today, however, the small group of three crowed around one corner of the enormous table, dwarfed by the ridiculous scale of it, while a spiky-haired assistant served them strong black coffee from a bright green Alessi coffee pot.

A broad shelf ran the full length of the windows that overlooked Madison Avenue, just as it had thirteen floors up in Veronica Simons' office. The only difference here was that the surface was home to the large number of awards the agency had obviously won by entering client campaigns into various trade competitions over the years. Rather ugly looking hunks of metal, crystal and glass lined up, vying for prominence, along the ledge. Kate scanned them for a second and then turned her attention back to Marcus Devlin.

* * *

"Thank you for seeing us at such short notice, Mr. Devlin," she began. "I know you must be incredibly busy," she added, flattering the man, as she nodded towards the wall of trophies.

He glanced over at them, vain pride flitting across his face at her acknowledgement of their collective brilliance.

"Thank you," he nodded, adding, "we try. Team effort," with a dip of his head, a kind of half-bow that came off both obsequious and ingratiating.

Castle sighed, loudly, and shifted in his seat. '_You sell soap powder to housewives_,' he wanted to say, unfairly, irritated by the way this would-be Don Draper was now eyeing up Kate as if she were the next trophy he wanted to add to his collection.

Kate ignored her partner and carried on playing the game.

"We came to ask you about a campaign you were working on about a year or so ago. A campaign for Benetton I believe it was, where you had been asked by the client to cast sets of twins?" she said, hoping to jog the Creative Director's memory.

"Yes, Benetton _were_ looking for a campaign of that sort. But the idea barely got past the story boarding stage, I'm afraid."

"Why was that?" asked Kate, taking a sip of the scalding hot coffee.

"Well, _they_ brought the idea to us…of using twins. That's not something we're usually comfortable doing - taking art direction from the client. But it was Benetton, so I figured…"

"You'd make an exception?" offered Kate with a pleasant, agreeable smile.

"Yeah. Brand like that, it could have opened up Europe for us," said Devlin, a wistful, faraway look appearing in his eyes.

"But it didn't come off?"

"No. We worked up their idea, and the pitch went well. We moved on to casting for the campaign, even used the photographer they wanted…"

"Again, was that not something you'd normally do?" asked Kate.

"We have done it in the past, particularly if the client wants us to use a name and they have the budget for it. But mostly we use our own suppliers, guys we've worked with for years. There's a verbal and creative shorthand required in translating ideas onto the page, Detective Beckett. Taking a story board and turning it into a living, breathing campaign," he explained, rather patronizingly Castle thought, since he himself was already familiar with the rather more involved creative process required to morph his novels into screenplays and then onto celluloid.

"Yes, my partner is more than a little familiar with that process," Kate pointed out, as if reading Castle's mind, barely managing to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

He could have kissed her.

"Of course. Mr. Castle, my apologies," Marcus Devlin said, dipping his head again, bowing to Castle's superior knowledge. "Then you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"So, you said you used their photographer. Where was this studio based?" asked Kate.

"Somewhere in the Meatpacking district, I think. Danny and Ben - one of our creative teams - they worked on that project day-to-day. I'll have them pull the job bag. Get the details to you. Can I ask what your interest is in this, Detective? As I said, the campaign never actually came off."

"What happened exactly?" asked Kate, ignoring the Creative Director's question.

"We started casting. They wanted a multicultural look, as is traditional with Benetton. You'll have seen their ads," he stated, not asking a question. "So we saw numerous sets of twins."

"How did you find them?" asked Castle. "These twins?"

"Some through modeling agencies. Oh, and we placed an ad in the Village Voice and New York Magazine. The client wanted young, fresh, beautiful faces. There are thousands of those in this city alone, but finding twins who fit the bill was a little more difficult."

"Did you see a Caitlin and Michael Williams or a Maria and Angelo Fuentes by any chance?" asked Kate, producing four headshots from inside her leather folder.

"I…" Marcus Devlin hesitated, as he looked the photographs over with a professional eye. "Oh these are good. Yes, they would have been perfect," he nodded, enthusiastically. "Good bone structure, clear skin, hip, young, and an excellent symbiosis between brother and sister," he enthused. "Yes, real winners."

Kate and Castle stared at the man, momentarily stunned by his rhapsodizing.

"Yes, but did you _see_ them…for _that_ campaign?" asked Kate, a little edge of frustration creeping into her voice.

"As I said, Ben and Danny worked on that project. I'll have one of them contact you," he said, reluctantly letting go of the photographs. "My role here is really more one of _overseer, puppet master, conductor_…part muse, part managing partner, if you will?" he said pompously.

"_Right_. And those awards ceremonies must keep you pretty busy," said Kate dryly.

A flicker of suspicion passed across Marcus Devlin's face as he assessed Kate's last comment, picking it apart for signs of sarcasm. Then he seemed to dismiss the idea out of hand.

"Tux is never out of the drycleaners," he said, beaming at the shelf of awards once more as if they were his children, rather than a line-up of cold, dusty, slap-on-the-back accolades presented by his own self-aggrandizing peers, rewarding him a second time round for work the client had already paid handsomely for.

"I think we're done here," said Kate, closing her folder with a snap and standing. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Devlin. If you could send a full list of all of the twins you invited along to that casting call, I'd really appreciate it," she added, handing him her card before shaking the man's hand.

"Oh, just one more thing," she said, turning to face the Creative Director once more. "You didn't explain why the campaign fell through in the end."

"Italians. They decided to keep the budget to spend in their own territory, as if they haven't heard of Benetton by now…"

"And how did that make you feel?" asked Kate, watching his face intently.

"They sacked us over the phone. How would you feel, Detective?"

"So, they didn't even do you the courtesy of looking you in the eye?" asked Castle, trying to conceal a delighted smirk. "That's just…"

But Kate cut him off before his pleasure at the man's loss could shine through.

"Do you have the name of the man who hired you? The Benetton guy…he was, _what_? The marketing something?" asked Kate vaguely, floundering over her thin knowledge of this particular field.

"I never actually met him."

"Danny and Ben again?" asked Kate. "They usually take on new clients of that magnitude all by themselves?"

"Oh no. I took the initial brief. But it was all done over the phone," he explained.

"So…what? You never even _met _the guy?" she asked, a little surprised.

"It was Benetton. What's to ask?" he said, as if Kate were the crazy one.

"But how do you even…oh look forget it," said Kate, getting exasperated with the man's obvious lack of understanding. "Just add all the client information you have to the list of models. Name, phone number, email address, whatever the guy gave you. We may need to get back in touch. I might have a few more questions."

* * *

As they stepped into the elevator, Castle leaned in against her side and hissed, "Pompous ass."

Kate turned her head to look at him and smiled.

"You just jealous your trophy cabinet's smaller, Ricky?"

"I have all the awards that count," he replied, not above being a little smug himself. "Besides, I have something Don Draper back there will never have."

"Oh really, and what's that?" asked Kate, suspicious she already knew where he was going with this.

"Why, _you_, of course, Detective," he smirked, earning himself a groan from Kate, and a roll of her eyes.

"Now _that_ was just predictable," she chastised him. "You'd never make it in advertising with lines like that. Where's your originality, Castle?"

"I'm plenty original," he protested. "Twenty-six best sellers says so. Anyway, who says I want to get into advertising?"

"I saw the way you were eyeing up those colored markers," she teased. "And a casting couch. _Come on, Castle_. I can totally see you watching a parade of young lovelies trail through your…oh wait. I just described one of your signing sessions," joked Kate, laughing at the look on his face.

"For that, dinner's on you tonight. And I say we eat in. So get your thinking cap on, Kate. Nothing below Cordon Bleu standard's gonna do."

"How does Italian from Sardi's sound?" she asked, taking his hand as they hit the street.

"Perfect!" he laughed, tugging her back towards the car.

_I'd still love to hear your thoughts._


	16. Chapter 16 A Timely Deposit

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 16 – A Timely Deposit_

When they arrived at the One-Two the next morning, the bullpen was already abuzz with activity.

"What's going on, Ryan?" asked Kate, dropping her bag onto the floor and slipping off her jacket.

"Agent Matthews re-ran the financials for the Williams twins after you visited that model agency yesterday. Since the aunt failed to mention Caitlin's part time work to the Feds over a year ago, they didn't know what to look for first time round."

"So…they're trying to find deposits that match up with…_what_, actual jobs?" asked Kate, flipping through the stack of mail that had been left on her desk.

She tossed a couple of promotional flyers straight into the trash, and filed the rest in her in-tray for later.

"Yeah, but we found something even more interesting," said Esposito, scooting his wheeled chair across to Kate's desk.

"Enlighten me," said Kate, leaning back against the edge of her desk, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Castle.

When the Detective and the writer lifted their coffee cups to their lips simultaneously, Esposito and Ryan exchanged a glance.

"Ryan?" prompted Kate, raising her eyebrows and nodding at him to get him to continue.

"Uh…yeah," he said, tearing his eyes away from the sight of Castle's large fist pressed carelessly up against Kate's thigh.

Esposito sighed and took over for his suddenly mute partner.

"When we looked over Caitlin's financials, we expected to see plenty on deposit, or at least a healthy, regular income from a trust fund or something, given what you told us about the dead parents leaving them both well taken care of."

"And that wasn't the case?" asked Castle, running his thumb absentmindedly up and down the outer seam of Kate's jeans.

She coped with the excruciating ripple of pleasure that fanned out across her thigh for all of thirty seconds, and then she was forced to reach down and gently still Castle's hand, before squirming away from him a little.

"Seems the apartment Caitlin purchased used up the lion's share of the capital they inherited."

"We reckon that's probably why they were living together before Michael moved in with his girlfriend. The title to the property is in joint names," explained Ryan.

"_So_…what about the trust fund?" asked Kate. "They blow through _that_ too?"

"Not exactly. It pays out a monthly allowance. But only five hundred dollars or so. Not enough to live on in Manhattan."

"Okay. So they had to supplement their incomes somehow. Getting scouted for modeling must have been a godsend then," said Kate. "Did you find regular payments from Reflections? Veronica Simons said Caitlin got more work than Michael, simply because there are more jobs our there for female models period. So if there's a discrepancy in their incomes, that would explain it."

Ryan looked at Esposito again with a little glint in his eye.

A lick of frustration unfurled in Kate's stomach. The boys had clearly found something and they were drawing the big reveal out for all it was worth.

"Okay. You know what? Guys, just spill," she said finally, looking from one to the other. "I can see that you've got something. So why don't you just tell us what it is, and then we'll gasp and applaud in all the right places. Won't we Castle?" she said, nudging her partner. "Promise."

Esposito looked affronted. Ryan just looked shocked that she'd seen through them so easily.

"But how did you…?" he spluttered.

"_Ryan!_" chimed Kate and Castle together.

Esposito and Ryan exchanged another look.

"Caitlin had _way_ more deposits from Reflections, as you already suggested. _But_ Michael Williams' account had a bigger net gain at the end of last year."

"So, what was he doing to earn money?" asked Kate.

"Gigolo?" suggested Castle with a wicked grin, and Kate nudged him with her elbow, rolling her eyes in such a gently amused manner that Esposito had to fight back a groan.

These two were creeping him out today.

"Close," he replied.

"But no cigar," added Castle gleefully, turning to _feed the birds_ with Ryan, as the boys clapped one another on the back, fooling around over Castle's comment.

"Guys, guys," said Kate, raising her voice above the kindergarten din. "Close but…? Where are you going with this, Espo?"

"His deposits came from a company called Cryogenics Inc."

"What do they do?" asked Castle. "Oh wait. Not freeze people? Please tell me we're not back to the human popsicle thing again?" he groaned.

"No, not exactly," said Ryan, dragging everyone's attention back to him. "They freeze _bits_ of people. Sperm to be precise."

"Michael Williams was a _sperm donor_?" clarified Castle, breaking into a beaming smile. "_Awesome_. Now I see what you meant by _deposits_," he smirked.

Esposito high-fived Castle for that last remark, and Kate had to cut across them to be heard.

"Makes sense, I suppose. He's a good looking guy," she said, and Castle shot her a surprised look. "_What?_ He _is._ Male model, attractive, tall, long piano-playing fingers…"

"Okay, Beckett. We get the picture," said Castle, a little defensively. "You'd be willing to have the guy's babies. And I use the plural here deliberately, since there's probably a good chance you'd end up carrying twins."

"Yeah, you think the clinic told the potential moms that?" asked Ryan, the thought obviously just dawning on him.

"Two for the price of one can't hurt, the fees these places charge," said Esposito wryly.

Kate shot them all a withering look.

"Did you check the financials of any of our other male twins to see if maybe they were donors too? It's possible that's the connection between them," suggested Kate.

"On it," said Esposito. "Ryan's got Fuentes and Bateman. I've got Gross and Jones. We're checking their phone records too to see how much contact Michael Williams had with Cryogenics Inc. I'll pass you a name when we track down just who he was dealing with."

"Great," said Kate, hopping down off her desk. "Let me know what you find."

Turning to her partner she said, "Castle, a word?"

* * *

Castle followed her over to the stairs, wondering if he was about to get chewed out for touching her thigh back there. He'd caught Ryan staring at them and he really hadn't meant to do it. It just kind of happened. He hoped she'd see that and understand because…

"I'm not interested in anyone's sperm but yours, Castle. Got it?" she whispered, her lips suddenly hovering dangerously close to his ear.

When had she…? And,_ what the…?_

"_Kate?_" he squeaked out.

"Your little swimmers, Castle. Good enough for me any day of the week," she said, a teasing smile on her lips as she patted him on the chest, looking just so much in control.

God she knew exactly what this would do to him. So she chose a public place on purpose. Evil, Kate, totally evil.

"Good to know, Beckett," said Castle, clearing his throat and fighting to reclaim his composure so she wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing how steamed up she'd just made him.

Because the thought of impregnating Kate Beckett was something at once so base, so masculine, so predatory, and yet so utterly romantic that he fought this very battle in his head every time he thought about it. And he thought about it _a lot_.

Castle straightened his jacket, stuffed his hands in his pockets to 'fill out his pants' and disguise the other means of achieving the same end before he exposed his aroused state to the boys and one very inquisitive FBI agent.

* * *

"What's with mom and dad today?" asked Ryan, once he and Esposito were alone.

"Totally weird, bro. I know what you mean. Just look at them over there," hissed Esposito, spying on them while Kate had her little 'chat' with Castle, pressed up against the wall by the stairs where they thought no one could see them.

"Is it a full moon or something?" asked Ryan, following Esposito's gaze.

"Jeez, I hope not. Lanie goes totally crazy during a…"

Ryan's head snapped up and he stared open-mouthed at his partner.

"_Way_ too much information, Javi," said Ryan, shaking his head.

"Sorry, man. Don't know what came over me."

"Let's just…" said Ryan, eyeing his partner suspiciously.

"Yeah…let's," agreed Esposito, snagging a file and picking up the phone.

* * *

Castle was trawling through the list of models Marcus Devlin had sent over via his Creative Team, while Kate was on hold with New York Magazine's ad sales department, trying to find out who had placed the advert aimed at recruiting twins for the Benetton campaign.

"Oh dear god, Fur Elise. _Seriously?_" she muttered to herself, when the music on the other end of the line segued seamlessly into a new, and even more irritating tune.

"There should be a law against that," drawled Castle, watching her run a frustrated hand through her hair.

"What? Being kept on hold?" asked Kate.

"I was thinking more Misdemeanor Possession of an Illegal piece of Muzak."

"Or what about Felony Assault on the Inner Ear?" asked Kate, with a wicked grin, warming up to their little game.

"Oooo, I like it!" said Castle gleefully. "Yours is _way_ better."

Just as Kate was about to have a third go, the woman finally came back on the line.

"Sorry for your wait, Detective. I have a Miss Melissa Garrity listed against that job," said the scratchy, nasal voice on the other end of the line. "Accounts show that she paid in full by check. Her address is listed as 34 Poplar Street, Brooklyn Heights, New York."

"You have a phone number?" asked Kate, scribbling down the information.

"Eh…nope. None listed here. Sorry. If she paid by check…oh but wait," she woman whined, as images of Gonzo the Muppet flitted through Kate's head. "There's an email address here."

"Great. Can you give me that?" asked Kate, pen poised over her notepad.

"Sure. It's M dot Garrity at Cryogenics dot com," said the woman, before spelling it out for a second time.

Kate wrote down the email address in silence. But her heart had started to beat just that little bit faster, the way it always did with the thrill of a possible lead. She thanked the woman for her help and then slowly put the phone down.

When she looked up, Castle was watching her with a curious look on his face.

"What?" he asked, his features breaking into a wide grin.

"What?" Kate fired back, trying to keep her own face from doing the exact same thing.

"Oh come on, Kate. How long have I known you? You just got something, didn't you? A lead or…I don't know. Something. What did she tell you?" he pestered her.

But before she could answer him, Ryan yelled "Bingo!" from across the bullpen, and shot out of his chair in triumph.

"What's got _you_ so excited?" asked Kate.

"Fuentes and Bateman. They were both donors at the Cryogenics clinic. And I crossed their phone records with Michael Williams', and they all repeatedly called the same extension," he said, grinning broadly.

"Let me guess," said Kate. "It belongs to a Miss Melissa Garrity?"

Ryan's face fell about three floors.

"How the hell did you _know_ that?" he whined, like a little kid whose mom had just stolen the punch line of a joke.

"I just got off the phone with the Advertising Sales Department at New York Magazine, and the woman who placed that Benetton ad was called Melissa Garrity. Her _email address_ is listed as Cryogenics dot com. Now _that_ simply couldn't be a coincidence," said Kate, looking over at Castle.

"I don't know, Beckett. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence…"

"And third time's a conspiracy, I know, Castle," said Kate. "But in this instance, twice is all it took. Just look at poor Ryan's face," she said, sympathetically.

He looked utterly deflated.

"Right. Good work guys. Castle and I will go talk to Miss Garrity, if you could continue to trawl for other donor twins. Call me if you find anymore so I can ask her about them. Because I doubt they'll be very keen to give up their donor list without a warrant."

As they walked towards the elevator, Kate leaned in close to Castle and said quietly, "Come on, stud. Let's show them what top quality sperm looks like."

Castle's feet just stopped moving. He was left gaping at her as she sashayed on down the hall ahead of him, his jaw hanging open in shock. No words. Just none. Dead.

_Thoughts? Please review?_


	17. Chapter 17 Commitments

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 17 – Commitments_

The offices of Cryogenics Inc. were based in a low-rise medical suite in TriBeCa, down on Warren Street, close to City Hall Park.

The modern, mixed-use building housed an orthodontist, a plastic surgeon's office, a group of Ob-Gyn associates, and Cryogenics Inc.

"This really is the full package…for a woman," said Castle, eyeing the board at the entrance. "Get your smile fixed, your face and body rearranged, purchase a little sperm, and bob's your uncle. Then you visit your Ob to get monitored until the baby comes."

Kate looked at him, not very amused by his observation it seemed.

"I think you got things a little out of order there, Mr. Castle," said Jordan Shaw dryly. "The plastic surgeon's the last link in that chain, believe me. You give birth, there are bits you're gonna want to get fixed."

Castle made a distasteful face and looked at Kate who was now smirking at him.

"You brought that one on yourself, Castle. Come on, let's go in," she said, holding the door open for him.

They'd only got as far as the elevator at the Precinct before Jordan Shaw had managed to catch up with them. When she'd found out where they were headed, she asked to tag along, since their inquiries related to all of the missing twins, and not just their homicide victim, Caitlin Williams.

* * *

Kate took the lead with the medical receptionist, a service shared between all four doctor's offices.

"Hi, we're here to see the Medical Director of Cryogenics, Dr. Janice Ellenton. I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, and this is Special Agent Jordan Shaw of the FBI. My partner, Richard Castle," added Kate, turning round to look for Castle, "is...ah, over there".

He was by the far wall, peering closely at a notice board covered in snapshots of cute, smiling babies, some with their delighted parents. The clinic's success stories, Kate assumed.

"Better watch that one," noted Jordan, following Kate's gaze. "Looks like he has plans for you," she smirked.

Kate didn't reply, just stared at Castle's broad shoulders, his thick hair, and the smile on his face as he lavished attention on each of the photographs. It was infectious; peering into other people's happy moments, and she had to pull her focus back to the present and the reason for their visit – missing twins, a woman who had died in childbirth, and one dead, abandoned baby.

Yeah. No time for fantasizing right now.

* * *

"Detective Beckett, Dr. Ellenton will be right with you. Can I get you coffee or anything?" asked the young woman, smiling nervously at the little huddle of officials currently crowding out her reception area.

"No, we're fine. Thank you," said Kate, leading Jordan over to the little bank of chairs in the waiting area.

"So, we managed, well Ryan managed, to trace three of the missing male twins to this place. All of them were sperm donors before they disappeared, and all three seemed to be in regular contact with a Melissa Garrity, who also works here."

"What about the other two?" asked Jordan.

"Esposito's still looking into that, but if it's a yes, I won't be surprised."

Castle finally came over to sit beside them.

"You know, I Googled this place on your FBI tablet on the way over here…" he said.

Castle had been miffed when Kate had allowed Jordan to ride shotgun, meaning he was relegated to the back seat of the car like a little kid. Again.

"And?" asked Kate. "What did you find?"

"They expect donors to visit here once or twice a week _minimum_ to eh…make a deposit," he said, looking a little uncomfortable discussing this in front of the FBI woman.

Jordon Shaw was known for her dry sense of humor, and no one was spared. Castle wouldn't be surprised if this current situation were comedy gold for her. He braced himself for her retort and wasn't disappointed.

"That sound a little too much like commitment for you, Mr. Castle? I hear you have quite the history," she said, watching his face intently.

Castle shot Kate a quick look, but she looked relaxed and merely amused, so at least that was one less thing to worry about. He still wondered how much his past bothered her, though it wasn't something that had really come up since they had been together.

"Four years following _me_ around kinda says he has staying power," said Kate, gently defending him.

Castle smiled in surprise.

"Very loyal of you, Detective Beckett. I like it," said Jordan admiringly. "You two make a good team."

* * *

Before the discussion could continue any further, Dr. Janice Ellenton appeared in reception to greet them.

She seemed momentarily surprised that they'd come so mob handed, but she covered it well and hospitably led them back to her office.

Castle stood at the back of the room, allowing Kate and Jordan Shaw to take the two seats facing the doctor's desk. His eyes wandered the office, taking in the various wall posters displaying the inner working of the female reproductive system, the life cycle of a sperm, the stark technicalities of IVF treatment.

A sonogram machine was pushed up against the far wall. The screen saver cycled through a number of attractive looking, stock photography images. Pictures of laughing seniors at some Florida Country Club, a handsome male doctor in green surgical scrubs, and then a row of multiracial babies, laid out on a white background wearing only diapers, appeared on the screen.

Castle stared at the picture for a minute, and then it was gone as the screen flipped over to a GE Corporate logo, carrying on with its slideshow. He filed it away at the back of his mind to think about later, and tuned into the conversation currently taking place in the room.

The middle-aged doctor was listening intently to Kate. Her hair was neatly drawn back into a ponytail, exposing fine cheekbones and a long neck. She was wearing a dark navy suit with a white blouse. Her nails were painted a deep red color, and she wore a simple gold wedding band on her left hand.

"Melissa Garrity," Kate was saying. "She works here…in what capacity exactly?"

"Used to work here," corrected the woman. "We had to let her go a few months ago, sadly."

"Is that a polite way of saying you fired her?" asked Jordan Shaw, getting straight down to the point a usual.

"Yes," admitted the doctor.

"Oh. Really? And why was that?" asked Kate, intrigued.

"Some things went missing. Over a period of months."

"Such as?" asked Kate.

"Stock. Melissa had access to the drugs locker, medical supplies, you name it. She was a good worker. All of our donors really liked her. I didn't want to let her go but..."

"But?" prompted Jordan.

"When items kept disappearing we started to track the times and dates, use of access codes, and finally used our security footage to prove who was taking it."

"And it was Melissa Garrity?"

"Yes," the doctor nodded.

"Did you go to the police?" asked Kate.

"No. The other partners and I, we decided against it. Maintaining strict privacy for our donors and clients is paramount to what we do, Detective. If it had gotten out that one of our staff was stealing from us…well, it would have lessened confidence in our service overall. We couldn't risk that," she explained. "She could just as easily have been taking data. We don't need those sorts of rumors starting."

"Do you have any idea why Melissa Garrity was stealing drugs and supplies?" interjected Castle.

"I just assumed she was selling them. There's a massive grey market for those kinds of things – online and on the street."

"But she didn't tell you that herself?" asked Kate.

"No. She wouldn't talk about it. Just kept apologizing. She looked genuinely sorry, and she was a lovely person. I really liked her and I trusted her. I don't want you to think this was about a clash of personalities or anything. I really didn't want to let her go. But I had no choice at the end of the day."

"Do you know if she had any money troubles?" asked Kate, looking for reasons why this young woman, who was trusted and well liked by her bosses, might want to risk her job.

"Not that I'm aware of, Detective. There was never anything to indicate that."

"Was she married or did she have a boyfriend?" asked Castle, following Kate's line of thinking.

"I think she was seeing someone, yes. A slightly older guy, I believe. But I never met him, and the way we work here – shifts, mostly one-on-one with clients or donors – it doesn't exactly lend itself to workplace gossip. In truth, other than that she was a talented nurse, a good administrator, and great with people, I really knew very little about her."

* * *

"Doctor Ellenton, I wonder if you wouldn't mind telling us a little about a few of your donors? That's why we're really here. Specifically, Michael Williams, Angelo Fuentes and a Philip Bateman?" asked Jordan Shaw, redirecting the conversation, going out on a limb she already suspected would be wholly unfruitful.

"Agent Shaw. I'm sure you of all people can understand that my hands are tied. I can't discuss any of our donors with you without a court order."

"Quite," replied Shaw. "Can you at least tell us if they're still on your donor registry?"

"Nice try. But no. I'm afraid not."

"Okay, then theoretically, tell me how you go about recruiting donors. Can you manage that?" asked Jordan, barely concealing her frustration.

"Various methods actually. We advertise, there's a strong word of mouth element, and many of our donors come to us because their own partners have experienced difficulty conceiving and they want to help others who're in the same position."

"Where do you advertise?" asked Castle.

"On the subway. You know inside the trains. And in a variety of magazines. We're looking for young, healthy, adult males aged 18 to 39. So Men's Health, New York Magazine, Gotham, GQ, The Village Voice, Esquire - those kinds of publications."

Kate made notes as the doctor talked. New York Magazine and the Village Voice were two of the publications that the 'Benetton campaign' adverts had appeared in. Adverts that they now knew were placed by Melissa Garrity.

"Can I ask who is responsible for your advertising?" asked Kate.

"We use an agency in Midtown called Ararat. They're what's called 'full service', handle everything - the creative and the media buying. And up until she left us, Melissa was responsible for liaising with them. That was one of her jobs, along with managing the relationship with our donors, and carrying out routine interviews with our female clients before they were matched up."

"Matched?" asked Kate, trying to conceal her excitement over the ad agency connection.

"With our donors. She'd take down physical characteristics; familial history; any preferences; blood type, CMV status. She also took blood samples from our males so we could run a bank of standard tests – HIV, Hep B and C, HTLV and so on. The male donors are re-tested every three months. Once they start donating, they come in twice a week to deposit a sample. We require them to commit for a minimum of one year."

* * *

Seeing another way into her previous question Jordan Shaw asked, "And have you lost any of your donors suddenly, no explanation, over the last year and a half?"

Dr. Ellenton eyed the FBI Agent warily before answering.

"There is always a small attrition rate," she answered slowly. "These men are making quite a commitment, and sometimes their circumstances change too. They get a girlfriend or get married and the woman objects to the thought of her partner fathering someone else's children, no matter how anonymously. Others simply move away. What is this all about, Agent Shaw? Detective Beckett?"

Kate looked at Jordan, who nodded her agreement for the detective to explain a little of why they were there.

"We have reason to believe that some of your donors may have gone missing. They have in common the fact that they were fraternal twins and they came here to donate sperm. Other than that, their lives seem wholly unconnected to one another at this point in our investigation."

"And those were the men you mentioned earlier? Williams, Fuentes and…?"

"Bateman," supplied Kate. "And there may be others. We're still checking some facts. This is a kidnapping case, until we know more. So that is why the FBI are involved."

"Get me that warrant and I will gladly help you. Until then…I'm sorry, but I can't say anymore," said the doctor, calling a halt to their interview.

"Just one final thing," said Kate. "I have Melissa Garrity listed at an address in Brooklyn Heights, on Poplar Street. Is that correct?" she asked the doctor, who simply nodded once without uttering an affirmative reply.

Kate rose from her seat, recognizing that they would find out nothing further from the doctor today. Jordan Shaw quickly followed suit.

* * *

Once they were back in the car, Kate turned on her phone. She had a voicemail message from Esposito.

"Looks like we just got the full set," she said, swiveling in her seat to face Castle, excitement sparkling in her eyes. "Espo just confirmed it - David Gross and Rudy Jones were donors at Cryogenics Inc. too. Time to apply for that warrant, Agent Shaw," said Kate, turning back round to start the engine.

_A/N: Any thoughts or ideas you'd like to share? _

_Apologies for the delay in updating. Got sidetracked a little with my post-Always fic. And there are just too few hours in the day!_


	18. Chapter 18 Boyfriend Troubles

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 18 – Boyfriend Troubles_

From Warren Street in TriBeCa Kate cut straight through City Hall Park as they made their way towards the Brookyln Bridge.

"I've got Ryan looking into Melissa Garrity's financials," she said, to no one in particular. "See if we can figure out why she stole that stuff. If she's in debt maybe her motive is _that_ simple."

"In my experience, _nothing_ is ever that simple," replied Jordan.

Kate focused on the lane ahead while she merged with the rest of the Brooklyn-bound bridge traffic.

The last time she and Castle had driven over to Brooklyn was over a month ago, on their way to hunt down the serial killer, Joey O'Conner, at a disused US Postal Service site on the edge of the Gowanus Canal. Memories of that day flooded Kate's mind as they left the island of Manhattan to rise up onto the southbound span of the old suspension bridge.

The water of the East River sparkled below them in the sunlight as Kate let her mind drift back over the events all those weeks ago.

Castle was still riding in the back, keeping suspiciously quiet, and Kate suddenly wished they were alone in the car without their chaperone for the day – Special Agent Jordan Shaw. Because if they had been, it would have given her a chance to vent over some of the horrors they'd faced that awful day, things Kate had never found the right time to discuss with him. Like her partner falling through a rotten warehouse floor, breaking his wrist and almost ending up paralyzed from the impact; catching Joey O'Conner hanging Michael Dupre by the neck from a hook on the wall, and just barely, barely getting there in time to save him; the chase towards the canal before the man jumped into the fetid, poisonous water and Esposito finally managed to fish him out; and having to stay at the crime scene and dispassionately do her job while Castle left in an ambulance without her to be taken to Downtown Hospital for a scan, not knowing whether he'd ever walk again.

Kate shivered, despite the warm air flowing through her partially open window. She risked a glance over her shoulder at her partner. His face was lit up from below by the glow coming from the FBI tablet that he was holding in front of him, as he thumbed the screen, all of his attention focused on whatever he was reading.

Jordan Shaw missed nothing Kate was coming to appreciate, and this time was no different.

"Games are disabled, as is porn," she said dryly, jerking her thumb towards the back seat, before turning to smile serenely at Kate. "So let's hope he's doing something useful back there."

"I'm right here. I _can_ here you," Castle reminded her indignantly.

"And you can multitask too it seems. Well done, Mr. Castle."

Castle ignored her little jab.

"I've just been checking out the Cryogenics' website again, if you must know? In addition to here in New York, they distribute sperm all over the US and internationally as well. No wonder these guys have to make two trips a week in there – demand must be _huge_. If this thing is international, does that mean we get to work with Interpol or CIA?" he asked eagerly.

Kate smirked. '_That's ma boy,_' she thought.

"My FBI Team not enough for you anymore, Castle? You craving a little inter-continental action?" joked Jordan, swiveling in her seat to look at him. "Harboring a little James Bond fantasy, are we?" she asked, smiling warmly at him between the seats.

"Well, I for one have had enough of the CIA for one year," muttered Kate, focusing on the road now that they were over the bridge and looping off onto Middagh Street.

"I sense a story there," said Jordan, picking up on Kate's tone.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with," said Castle, popping his head between the two front seats.

The last thing he and Kate needed was Jordan Shaw poking around in the car crash of a case that had involved the now dead CIA Agent, and Castle's former girlfriend/muse, Sofia Turner.

"Definitely something worth pursuing," nodded Jordan to herself, sending Castle a challenging look.

Kate ignored her, took a right on Hicks, and then they arrived at their destination – Poplar Street and the home of Miss Melissa Garrity.

* * *

The former fertility clinic nurse lived at number thirty-four: a tidy, attractive, four-story walk-up in a leafy part of Brooklyn Heights. The building was faced in red brick, with white-painted relieving arches above each window. The communal front door was painted antique green, and had a large opaque glass pane with the building number etched into the center of it. An intercom panel was fixed to the right-hand wall by the door.

Kate pressed the buzzer for Melissa's apartment and they waited for a response.

The high-pitched voice that issued from the box on the wall threw Kate for a second. It sounded like a cross between a woman and a child, and Kate's curiosity was piqued. She wondered exactly what this person would look like in the flesh.

"Melissa Garrity?" she asked.

"Yes? Who is it?" the nurse squeaked back breathily.

"Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD, Miss Garrity. I'd like a word, please?" she said, not wishing to overwhelm the woman with the names of her companions at this point.

There was silence on the intercom for several seconds before the voice answered with a new note of reluctance.

"What is this about?"

"I'm sure you don't want me discussing your business in the street for all your neighbors to hear, Melissa. May I come up?" asked Kate, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible, though the threat was clearly implied in her statement.

After another few beats of silence, in which the woman was clearly weighing her options, neither of which seemed good right at that moment, she decided to err on the side of privacy and sanity by allowing the reasonable-sounding Detective up to her apartment.

"Great, we're in," said Jordan Shaw once the buzzer triggered the door release and Kate pushed the building's front door open.

* * *

They trailed up the stairs to apartment 2b - Kate leading the way, followed by Jordan Shaw, with Castle making up the rear.

Melissa Garrity was waiting for them out in the hallway, her front door lying ajar. She looked nervous, and then instantly more disturbed when she took in the two additional bodies accompanying Kate.

Kate held out her hand for the woman to shake, and then turned to introduce Jordan Shaw and Castle.

Melissa was a small, curvaceous, bubbly blond - the archetypal Playboy poster girl for the nursing profession. She shook Kate's hand firmly as if holding on might quell the anxiety Kate could see rising behind her eyes. At the mention of FBI Melissa visibly paled, and then a confused look flitted across her face when Kate introduced Castle.

"Nikki Heat?" she stuttered out, frowning at the writer in puzzlement as a blush began to reanimate her pale complexion and she flicked her gaze back to Kate.

"Oh good, you're a fan," interjected Jordan. "He'll get a kick out of that," she said, smiling at Castle.

"Melissa can we go inside and talk?" asked Kate.

The woman reluctantly stepped aside to allow them to enter her apartment, still obviously unclear as to why they were there.

* * *

She showed them into her lounge - a small, but intensely neat room over-looking Poplar Street. Two cream sofas faced one another across a large, low-level, dark wood coffee table; the kind of thing you might find in a Thai imports store. Fuchsia pink and lime green throw pillows nestled against the large expanse of the plain sofa. An unusual rug, made up of various squares in different hues, filled the floor, injecting the room with a riot of color. Her curtains were simple cream calico, and seemed to be more for effect than anything else, since the windows has been fitted with plantation shutters.

The apartment was mercifully cool after the heat of the street and the car, and Kate gratefully sat down on one side of the coffee table next to Jordan Shaw. Castle took the lime green velvet armchair that sat perpendicular to the two sofas.

Melissa sat down alone, facing the two women.

She waited patiently for Kate to begin explaining the reason for their visit. Her eyes flicked nervously from one woman to the other, before seeming to settle on Kate's face as a way to ground herself.

In the same way that sometimes less is more, there were times when silence could elicit greater information than all the questions in the world, and this was one of those instances.

It wasn't long before Melissa Garrity revealed her hand.

* * *

"Is this about the missing inventory?" she blurted. "Because I offered to pay them back and I said I was sorry," she added, looking frantically from Kate to Jordan and back. "And my supervisor promised they weren't going to press charges."

Castle sat quietly, observing the woman's body language.

"Melissa, can you explain why you stole fertility drugs and insemination kits from your employer? Because I'm having a hard time understanding this," said Kate, playing the sympathy card again. "By all accounts you were a great nurse. Your boss, Dr. Ellenton, really sang your praises when we visited her. So I simply don't understand why you'd put your career on the line by doing that. Can you help us out here?" asked Kate, sticking with concerned rather than tough.

"But they promised they wouldn't go to the police if I left quietly," Melissa whined, now looking at Castle in a play for sympathy.

Jordan Shaw had evidently reached the end of her patience.

"We're not here to charge you, though if it was up to me…" she added, leaving that sentiment hanging in the air.

Then she sighed.

"Why'd you steal that stuff, Melissa? Did you sell it? Needed to make a little extra cash on the side, huh? Is that what this is about? How much does a syringe of hormones go for on the street these days?" asked Jordan Shaw, pushing her harder than Kate had so far.

In a move that underscored her lack of credentials as a criminal mastermind, Castle watched Melissa Garrity pause all of a few seconds before she caved and launched into the explanation she hoped would save her skin.

"It wasn't like that," she fired back.

"Like what?" asked Kate, trying to sound calm, patient, and encouraging.

"I didn't sell the stuff."

"What did you do with it then?" asked Jordan, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand awaiting the woman's explanation.

She sighed.

"It was for my boyfriend."

"Your _boyfriend_? What did he want with fertility drugs? Clomid and Ovidrel, they're for women, right?" asked Kate, consulting her notes.

"He told me he wanted to help a couple of lesbian friends who were desperate to have a baby."

"And you _believed_ him?" asked Jordan, sounding amused at her evident stupidity.

"Yes, why not? Why wouldn't I?" asked Melissa defiantly.

"There are _ten boxes_ _full_ of kit listed here. Just how many lesbians does your boyfriend know?" asked Jordan, her face dead pan, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Melissa looked down at her lap, her face flushing pink with embarrassment as her bluster deserted her.

"So just who is this _boyfriend_?" asked Kate, keen to keep the interview moving forward. "How long have you known him and where did you two meet?"

"Jeremy. His name is Jeremy Eldridge. We've been dating for nearly two years. We met at the clinic, actually."

"At Cryogenics?" asked Kate, a little surprised. "Was he a…a donor at the clinic?"

"He wanted to be. Came in for a consultation. He was passionate about donating. Wanted to help childless women and couples achieve the dream of parenthood," she said, her face lighting up with the memory, pride shining in her eyes.

"And…did you…were you the one who interviewed him?"

"Yes, it was my job to undertake initial donor interviews. They're part psych eval, part family medical history, part physical," she explained.

"And he passed or…?" asked Kate.

"Oh he passed the psychological screening, and the battery of blood tests we have to carry out, with flying colors," Melissa confirmed.

"But he didn't make it as a donor? Did he change his mind?"

"No. He was devastated when we had to turn him down."

"So, why did you?"

"He...eh…he had a little _motility_ problem," she said, twisting her skirt in her fingers.

"Motility?" asked Kate, her forehead creasing with the question.

"His swimmers were duds," interjected Castle wryly, as three pairs of female eyes swiveled to look at him.

"_What?_" he asked, in response to Kate's raised eyebrow, noting the humor playing in her eyes. "I'm a _man_. We're proud of our virility. When it comes into question…well, it's a blow. Am I right?" He asked Melissa Garrity, adding quickly, "Not that I've ever had that problem myself."

"No. Of course you haven't," said Jordan Shaw dryly.

"His sperm fell below the baseline activity level we accept, so I'm afraid I had to turn him away."

"But you two kept in touch?" asked Kate.

"Yes. I felt sorry for him initially. He was so passionate about wanting to help people, so idealistic, and being turned away…well, a lot of men _do _see it as a blow to their manhood, as Mr. Castle suggested."

"And how soon after that did you two start dating?"

"I…well, no. Not immediately. He was a prospective client. When motility is called into question, we send men away with a list of changes they can make to their lifestyle to improve the quality of their sperm, and then we invite them back to be re-tested six months later."

"Such as?" asked Jordan.

"We ask them to improve their diet, cut back on alcohol consumption, no hot baths, wear loose underwear, that kind of thing. We also advise them to avoid working with their laptops balanced on their thighs. You'd be surprised how many men do that," said Melissa, and Kate flashed a look at Castle.

He caught her glance and raised his eyebrows, shrugging his shoulders at her. He'd already proved his virility by siring Alexis, as far a he was concerned. The fact that laptops didn't exist back when she was conceived never entered his head.

"The rules were clear," continued Melissa Garrity. "We were strictly forbidden from dating clients, male or female. Anonymity and privacy are the key watchwords in our business. Without that we have nothing, and the clinic risks losing its license."

"So, if you were such a stickler for the rules, just what caused you to go off the rails, start dating a potential client, and then begin stealing from your own company?" asked Jordan Shaw bluntly.

Melissa looked down at her lap again, shame coloring her face.

"Melissa?" prompted Kate more gently.

"I got stupid. Okay? Fell in love, I guess. Jeremy is…_charismatic_, passionate. He could be really persuasive when he wanted to be."

"So you start dating. No issue with seeing a guy who had below average fertility?" asked Jordan.

"We were just having fun. I wasn't planning on starting a family with him. At least not right away."

"And just when did he ask you to start helping his lesbian friends?" she asked.

"About a year and a half ago. Maybe a little longer."

"Exactly how did he plan on getting these friends pregnant if all he had was a regular supply of high end turkey basters and easy access to some stolen fertility drugs? I mean, the fact that he was firing blanks must have been a bit of an issue," interjected Castle.

Kate sat back in her seat, pleased with her partner's perceptive question, awaiting Melissa's reply.

She bit her lip nervously, and played with the small tassel on the corner of one of the pink throw pillows.

"I gave him straws of sperm to use," she said quietly, her face contorted by a worried frown.

"You…you stole vials of sperm too?" asked Jordan Shaw, leaning forward beside Kate.

"Dr. Ellenton didn't mention that part," Kate added.

"Yeah, well…they have their business to protect, I guess. Some drugs go missing, catheters, sterilizing wipes…no biggie. But _actual_ sperm…"

Melissa shook her head and laid her palms open before them, as if she couldn't imagine what she herself had done, couldn't begin to explain it.

"Did you ever meet any of these friends? Jeremy's friends?" asked Kate, a thousand different questions now springing to mind.

"No. We didn't socialize much," she admitted.

"And you didn't find that odd?" asked Kate.

"Odd?"

"Yes, that he had these female friends he wanted to help so badly that he was prepared to have you break the law for him, and he didn't even introduce you to them? Not once. Didn't that strike you as odd?"

"When you put it like that, I…I guess it sounds strange. But he's a busy guy. He has _his_ life and _I_ have mine. We don't live in each other's pockets, Detective."

"How often do you see one another?"

"It varies. Nothing regular or set in stone."

"When did you see him last?"

"Not for a few weeks."

"Is that unusual?"

"No. When he has a big project on I often don't hear from him."

"Do you talk on the phone?"

"Sometimes. He's not big on small talk."

"How do you arrange to meet?" asked Jordan.

"He texts me."

"And what is it that this busy boyfriend of yours does for a living?" asked Jordan.

"He's a fashion photographer," she said proudly, and Kate's ears pricked up.

She sat up straighter on the sofa and turned to look at Castle who gave her a knowing look back.

"Have you ever visited his studio?" asked Kate, feeling a little jag of excitement as her heart rate speeded up.

"No, he likes to work in private. Says it keeps his subjects relaxed."

"Ever been to _his_ place?" asked Kate.

"No, he works late a lot. We meet at mine or go out to eat."

"So, you lost your job, possibly your career, because of this guy, and you haven't heard from him in a few weeks. Is that right?"

"Yes," confirmed Melissa.

"Ever think you were maybe just a little bit gullible?" asked Jordan Shaw.

"No. I don't pry. Guys _like_ that," replied the nurse, her chin jutting out in response to Jordan's direct criticism.

"I'll bet they do," she added coldly, getting up from her seat to wander over to the window.

"Look, can you tell me what this is about? Are you charging me with something or not?" asked Melissa, evidently getting fed up being questioned and belittled in her own home.

"We have a few more questions for you. But I think it might be more productive if you could come down to the station with us, so we can continue this interview in a more formal setting," said Kate.

Melissa paled and then buried her face in her hands.

"Do I have to?" he asked Kate.

"You're not under arrest, if that's what you mean. But you stole human biological material, and used it without the owners' consent. So this just got a whole lot more serious, Melissa."

"I'll get my purse," she said quietly, standing to collect her things.

_A/N: Still juggling two stories, and I hope you're still enjoying this one and happy to stick with it._


	19. Chapter 19 Of Her Own Free Will

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

A/N: I've been neglecting this story, I know. But if you're reading And All The Mornings Ever After, I hope you'll forgive me.

_Chapter 19 – Of Her Own Free Will_

As they walked into the Precinct with Melissa Garrity between them, a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalls issued from a number of the Uniforms clocking on for duty in and around the front hallway.

"Right, that's enough guys," called Kate, leading her little group towards the elevator while Castle gallantly scowled at a few of the smirking jocks in blue. When they stared him down, he quickly looked away and hurried on.

Jordan Shaw fell in behind, appearing, quite frankly, above it all.

Castle had watched Melissa Garrity intently while they'd interviewed her at her apartment, and he didn't believe for a second that she was a bad person. Misguided, maybe, and _used, certainly_ - just another victim of a persuasive man's charms? Perhaps. Her career was now in severe doubt as a result. She was paying for what she had done already, no question. So in his mind, there was no need to torture her twice by making this any rougher an experience than it needed to be.

"Ryan, would you show Miss Garrity into interrogation room two for me please? Get her coffee or whatever she'd like. And I will be right in," said Kate, handing Melissa over to Ryan's care.

"How'd you want to do this?" asked Jordan Shaw, looking at Kate. "You and me? You and Castle? A cosy little threesome?" she joked, watching Castle roll his eyes for a change.

"I'm sure Castle would be happy to sit this one out," said Kate, raising her eyebrow meaningfully at him as she answered on his behalf.

"I'm kinda guessing that was rhetorical," said Castle, sinking down into the chair next to Kate's desk.

"He's perceptive, I'll give you that," said Jordan, gathering together her notebook and a pen, and walking away towards the interview room.

"Sorry. I'll make it up to you," promised Kate, collecting her own paperwork.

"Tonight?" asked Castle hopefully.

Kate smiled at him indulgently.

"Watch the interview, pay attention in case we miss something, and yeah. I'll make it up to you tonight."

"On it," said Castle, jumping up to follow her to the observation window outside the interview room.

Melissa looked smaller, younger, and more vulnerable sitting at the plain, grey table in that drab, airless room, instead of her neat, colorful apartment.

Jordan was sitting across from her, silently waiting for Kate to arrive – no small talk, just sitting drinking her coffee and biding her time. Castle guessed that was something they taught you at Quantico – never to be afraid of silences. He tended to fill dead air with incessant chatter, and he knew it annoyed Kate sometimes, so he vowed to work on that one - to find his Zen.

* * *

"Okay," said Kate, closing the door behind her. "Thank you again for coming in. You understand that you are here voluntarily, and as such you are free to leave at anytime."

Melissa nodded.

"Can we just get this over with? She asked, hugging the warm paper cup filled with coffee to her chest.

"Of course," replied Kate, uncapping her pen and opening her notes.

"So, we've established that you provided your boyfriend, Jeremy Eldridge, with fertility drugs and the means to…I'm…would you say '_impregnate_', these lesbian friends of his?" asked Kate, a little hesitantly.

"Yes, impregnate is fine, and yes, I think we've established that," agreed Melissa.

"And in addition to those items, you also stole straws of donor sperm because of your boyfriend's…eh…fertility issues."

"Yes," replied Melissa, with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, so that being the case, can you please explain to me just exactly _how_ you selected the sperm that you passed to your boyfriend? Did it always come from the same donor? Or…"

"No. There were various donors."

"I see. And how did you choose them? Your clinic has over five hundred active donors currently listed on its website. So, how'd you narrow it down?"

"I didn't. Jeremy did."

"_Jeremy?_"

"Yes. We searched the database together at first, and then…then he said _that_…that these women, these friends of his wanted more input. He said that he'd researched the success rates for IUI, and…"

Jordan Shaw cut Melissa off.

"I'm…I'm sorry. You said IUI? Not IVF, right?"

"Yes, that's right. IUI – it stands for Intrauterine Insemination. It's the lower-tech stage before IVF. The woman takes fertility drugs to improve her chances of producing enough follicles so that at least a couple of them will produce eggs, and then hopefully one of those will be fertilized. She injects herself right before ovulation is due to take place to mature any eggs that are about to be released and…"

"Sounds…complex," said Jordan. "Is it possible to do without the help of the clinic?"

"Without access to a sonogram machine those women were flying a little blind. They may produce more follicles of sufficient size than would be considered healthy."

"And is that risky?"

"The risk is the increased chance of a multiple birth. Get too many eggs, and if they all fertilize, you're looking at triplets, quads…you get the picture. Risky for mom, risky for the babies themselves."

"So, to get back to the donor selection process. Jeremy wanted to involve the women, which I guess is understandable, since it's a big decision…choosing the father of your child, I mean," said Kate.

"_Quite_," said Jordan tartly, looking pointedly towards the one-way mirror currently allowing Castle to view proceedings.

Kate narrowed her eyes and tried not to rise to the FBI agent's pointed remark.

"Did they have any specific physical criteria, these women? Blue eyes, dark hair…eh," Kate flushed, realizing how _that_ sounded, "ppperfect teeth?" she stuttered.

"Perfect teeth?" snorted Jordan, turning to look at Kate.

"So, did _they_? Have criteria, I mean?" Kate carried on, trying to ignore the amused FBI agent.

"Oh, they had criteria alright. But not what you might expect."

"Enlighten us," said Jordan dryly.

"They only wanted men who were twins themselves," explained Melissa, shaking her head.

"Twins?" repeated Kate, her pulse quickening, and Melissa nodded her head. "_Why?_"

"Success rates with IUI treatment are low. It's only a slight step up from the results achieved by having sex the natural way. The only real differences are the enhanced fertility of the woman due to the drugs we use, and the placement of the sperm directly into the uterus, thus bypassing the vagina and cervix."

"Right," said Kate, frowning. "That's…_a lot_ of detail."

"You did ask," replied Melissa.

"So, this preference for twins. What was _that _all about?"

"Jeremy had a theory, that since these donors were the product of a multiple birth themselves, due either to the egg dividing at conception or two eggs being fertilized at the same time, then they were already part of a more fertile genetic group. The chance of twins having twins is higher than in the population as a whole, where twins run at around 33 in every 1,000 pregnancies."

"And other than being twins, did these donors have anything else in common? Hair color, eyes, blood type? Anything?"

"No. I don't think so. He was just looking for twins. In fact, that was the strange thing."

"What?" asked Kate.

"They were all _quite_ different."

"And Jeremy would have known this?" asked Kate. "Do you provide pictures of the donors? Or would have just have been going on their physical descriptions?"

"There are photos, but only as children. Donors are anonymous. When any resultant offspring reach the age of eighteen, they can ask to be put in touch with their donor father. But until then, anonymity is guaranteed. So the only photos female clients have to go on when choosing a suitable match are photographs of the donor as a baby or young child."

"And Jeremy would have seen these too?"

"They're part of the donor profile on the website. _So_…yeah. He could have looked at those if he wanted too."

"Did you two ever discuss the donors Jeremy selected?"

"No. He gave me a list of reference numbers, and I picked the straws to order, put them in the dry shipper and handed them over."

"And as far as you are aware, at this point, have there been any successful live births as a result of this little operation you indulged in?" asked Jordan.

"Last time we spoke, no. He seemed really disappointed in me. I did everything he asked…"

Melissa looked down at her hands and she began twisting a Kleenex, her eyes a little tearful.

"I lost my job because of him…and he hasn't called me in like…_weeks_," she said bitterly, her voice contorted by a sob.

"Okay. Look," said Kate, laying a hand on Jordan Shaw's arm. "How about we take a little break? Get a fresh cup of coffee, visit the bathroom if you need to, and then we can get this thing wrapped up."

Kate was conscious that Melissa Garrity had agreed to answer their questions voluntarily, and the information they had just learned was beyond what she'd expected. But they couldn't compel her to stay. The minute she got fed up being pushed and prodded, she'd be off. So Kate planned to go a little kid gloves on her in the hope that they'd get to cover off everything they needed to know.

They had yet to ask her about the adverts she'd placed, and _they_ were what had led them to her in the first place. That, and the missing male twins being on the company's donor database; a fact discovered by Ryan.

* * *

When she exited the interrogation room Castle was waiting for her in the dimly lit space beyond the one-way glass.

"Hey. You okay?" she asked, running her hand gently but firmly down his forearm. "I'm sorry you're not in there with us, but three against one might make her feel a little ganged up on, and I'm trying to give Jordan her place," explained Kate. "It's not ideal."

"I'm cool. Don't worry. But I do have a suggestion," said Castle, leaning against a table with her, hip to hip.

"What's that?" asked Kate, expecting something salacious or humorous.

"Ask her if there was any way Jeremy could have found out the names of the individual donors. She said he gave her their reference numbers, which is probably what they use to anonymize their records. I'd like to know if there's any chance Jeremy found out the name of each donor, since he was selecting twins. We don't know if they're _our_ twins yet, but if they aren't…I'll eat my hat."

"Every now and then, you remind me why I keep you around Richard Castle," beamed Kate, bumping him with her shoulder.

Castle grinned back at her, his smile lighting up his face.

"Just every now and then?" he teased, thrilled by her approval.

"You have your moments. Oh, you _definitely_ do," said Kate, tracing her finger up and over his thigh, feeling his quads tighten under her touch.

Castle coughed as Jordan Shaw exited the interview room and headed past them, to warn Kate to withdraw her hand.

"I've asked Ryan to print out photos of the missing male twins and scan the Cryogenics website for possible donor matches, using the baby photos the company provides for comparison," added Castle.

"Oh, you are _so_ getting the full treatment tonight," said Kate, hopping down off the tabletop before she pinned him to it right now. "_That_ is a smart suggestion. Interrupt me if he has any luck," said Kate, squeezing his knee.

"You think we'll make our reservation?" asked Castle, catching her by the elbow to hold her back.

"You mean if this runs over, or if I shackle you to the bed with my handcuffs and we run out of time, given all the hot, nasty things I want to do to you right now?" she asked, a seductive smile curling her lips.

Castle laughed out loud.

"I'll move the reservation back to nine. Now go," he shoed her away from him, "let me concentrate. See if I can't pick up on something else before this afternoon's over, if it makes you that frisky."

* * *

"Okay, Melissa," said Kate, once they were all settled back around the utilitarian, grey table with fresh cups of coffee placed before them. "I think we've covered off the clinic stuff for now, unless you have anything else you want to add?"

Melissa shook her head, took a sip from her cup, and then sank back in the chair. She looked a little defeated, so Kate wanted to keep things moving in order that the young woman would be sucked into answering their questions, and forget that she was under zero obligation to do so. Handled right, that tactic worked nearly every time, as long as there was no rap sheet with a list of priors as long as your arm to make the interview subject a good deal more savvy.

"Right. Good. Okay, I'd like to move onto the subject of the adverts that you placed," said Kate, opening her folder and withdrawing a couple of specimen examples of the Benetton campaign model recruitment ads, "looking for models."

Melissa sat up straight.

"What?" she asked, leaning across the table to slide one of the exemplars towards her. "God, I'd forgotten about those."

Kate looked confused.

"But, this advert here, the latest one, it was only placed four months ago," said Kate.

"I…I…no. That's not possible. I thought you meant the adverts I placed for the Clinic. The ones we ran looking for donors. I haven't placed an ad for Jeremy in like a year."

"So how do you explain the fact that New York Magazine has you down as their contact for this advert?" asked Kate, pushing the Benetton one back towards her.

"I…I have _no_ idea. Maybe from the ads I placed for the Clinic. I mean we used New York Magazine on our media roster. But the agency handled the media buying for that account."

Melissa looked genuinely bewildered.

"Is it possible that Jeremy could have placed those ads using your contact information?" asked Jordan Shaw. "I mean did you ever give him access to your email account or login information?"

The former nurse's face flushed pink, and she slapped a hand to her forehead, speechless for a second.

"Melissa?" prompted Kate. "Is that what happened?"

"I let him have my access codes for the database, just so he could order the sperm this one time when I went home to visit my mother. I meant to change my details when I got back. Not because I didn't trust him, but just…as a precaution, you know?"

"And you forgot?" asked Kate sympathetically.

Melissa nodded, biting her lip.

"Why would he _do _that?" she asked plaintively, looking from Kate to Jordan and back.

"That's exactly what we're trying to figure out," said Kate, casting a quick glance towards the one-way mirror.

_A/N: Still enjoying this? A little down time for Caskett coming up in the next chapter, since one or two of you asked for that. Love to hear from you._


	20. Chapter 20 Date Night

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 20 – Date Night_

"You _do_ realize that this is the first time we've been out together since we got back off vacation," said Kate, taking Castle's hand as they hit the sidewalk in front of his apartment building.

Their fingers curled together and they fell easily into step with one another.

"Are you trying to say that I've been neglecting you, Detective? Because I'm pretty sure that breakfast in bed still counts as pampering somewhere in the world."

Kate laughed, swinging their hands between them.

"Okay, I'll give you that. The eggs Benedict _were _above and beyond."

"With a side order of me," he grinned boyishly, squeezing her fingers. "Don't forget about that part, Kate."

"How could I? After you almost made us late for Gates' briefing."

"Not what I meant."

"Not stroking your ego, Castle," said Kate, determinedly shaking her head. "So, come on. Where are you taking me that I had to get kinda dressed up?"

"We're going to dinner - a civilized, grown-up dinner. So I hope you're good to walk in those shoes?" he said, eyeing up Kate's four-inch high platform heels.

"Walk? So it's somewhere local?"

"Ah, ever the Detective. Always looking for clues."

"I could always just twist your ear, Castle," she suggested, wickedly raising an eyebrow at him, her fingers twitching in his.

"That won't be necessary," he replied quickly, taking her arm and steering her across Broome Street ahead of him where is crossed Mercer, his other hand resting lightly at her waist.

They passed by the Kate Spade boutique, and Kate paused to look in the window at the bright display of shoes and clutches. Castle stopped beside her, his hand skimming up and down her back, enjoying the silky feel of her summer shift and the heat of her body, fresh from the shower, deliciously warm under his fingers as he traced the outline of her underwear beneath. He had lain on his bed to watch her get dressed, and it still thrilled him to be out with her, knowing exactly what she was wearing next to her skin. It was a secret intimacy he relished.

Waiting patiently on the sidewalk, he realized that he was also delighted to see this off-duty, girly version of Kate that she was revealing to him more and more - this Kate who liked nothing better than to window shop in SoHo on a summer's evening, while they slowly meandered their way to dinner.

* * *

They moved on, turning right onto Spring Street, walking on the sunny side to make the most of the low evening light before the sun set for the day.

Once they reached Greene, Kate tugged on Castle's hand, drawing him over to look in the windows of the enormous Longchamp store that took prime position on the corner.

"My dad's birthday is coming up. I thought I'd get him a new briefcase. He's been carting the same battered old leather thing around for years. What do you think? You've got a certain…_style_," teased Kate, nudging him in the ribs. "Do you think my dad would like one of the these?" she asked, pointing to a soft-sided, modern leather briefcase.

"Just how long has your dad owned this old briefcase of his?" asked Castle, his arms encircling her waist while he stood behind her looking in through the glass, playfully nudging her backside with his hips.

"_Oh_…" said Kate, realizing what he was getting at immediately. "My god, you're _right_. How stupid of me," she said, turning round to face him, her arms now wrapped around his waist as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "He's had it since he and my mom worked together. I…I guess that's why he never threw it away," she said wistfully, her eyes taking on that faraway look Castle knew so well. "I know he's had the handles repaired more than once. I just thought he was being frugal."

Kate reached up on tiptoe to press her lips against Castle's mouth, soft and grateful. He held her there against him, with one hand at her waist, the other resting lightly against her spine, breathing with her, silhouetted against the setting sun.

"How'd I end up with such a smart man?" asked Kate, her eyes showing her gratitude as she looked up at him.

"Can I get that in writing?" he joked.

If they weren't careful, this conversation could get maudlin, so Castle slipped his hand into Kate's and turned them around to continue their journey along Spring Street.

"We'll think of something else. Don't worry," he said, looking over at her to check she was okay.

Kate didn't reply, simply leaned in against his side so that he could slip his arm around her shoulders as they headed for West Broadway.

* * *

Before they could get that far, Kate spotted the Crocs store at the corner of Spring and Wooster, and she started to laugh.

"_What_?" he asked, eyeing her strangely.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Javi went on that trip to visit his parents and he brought a gift back for Lanie?"

"_No_," said Castle, amused by Kate's reaction, as she struggled to get the words out to retell the story.

"Lanie thought, when he said that he had a gift for her, that it would be some naughty lingerie, or, I don't know, jewelry, or something romantic like that," said Kate, clutching his hand and giggling.

"And I'm guessing it involved rubber shoes?" asked Castle, with a groan, tilting his head towards the Crocs storefront.

"_Right!_ Ugliest things Lanie said she'd ever seen. Olive green," snorted Kate, clutching at her sides. "So she threw them at him. Javi ducked just in time, but they hit the wall and bounced right off. They bounced, Castle," wheezed Kate, doubling over.

Castle started laughing with her, amused at how funny she found this story, and so damn happy to see her being so silly and relaxed.

"Guess the moral of the story is something rude about the only rubber you should bring back from a trip…and I should probably quit while I'm ahead," he said, when Kate's fingers jabbed his ribs.

"_Rick Castle_," she gasped with mock outrage. "That's our _friends_ you're talking about."

"_Ew_, Kate. Lanie and Javi? I was talking about _us_."

"But we don't even use…oh god, let's just change the subject. I can't believe we're talking about contraceptives. Especially after that interview with Melissa Garrity today."

"Oh, hey, Ryan had matched two of the missing twins to the donor baby photos when we left the 12th tonight. I said I'd take over for him tomorrow," said Castle, changing the subject.

He paused to wait for the _Walk_ sign as traffic sped past on West Broadway.

"_That_ was an impressive suggestion," said Kate. "Even Gates will have to give you credit for that one."

"Yeah, well I'm not holding my breath."

"Are we going to Peep?" asked Kate, out of the blue when Castle steered her to the right once they were safely over West Broadway, so that they could head North-East towards Prince.

"Close, Kate. But no, not tonight."

Kate let out a contented sigh, and didn't push him any further. In truth, she was happy to have him take the lead tonight and think for both of them. They'd had a long day, and been escorted for most of it by Jordan Shaw. So it was nice just to relax on their own, without prying eyes and ears or sarcastic remarks.

* * *

The restaurant they _were_ in fact going to, _The Dutch_, was one of the current _in_ places on the New York restaurant scene. It was located on the corner of Prince and Sullivan Streets, merely a block from the site of their last big serial killer case.

The restaurant had been booked solid, ever since the New York Times restaurant reviewer had given it an excellent write up, and Castle had yet to dine there as a result. That, and being too busy working with Kate, living with Kate, and then vacationing with Kate had left him unable to keep up with the scene over the last few months. So this would be a first for both of them, which made it more special as a result.

"Okay, here we are," said Castle finally, as they passed the busy side windows of The Dutch, with its' blue and grey striped awnings, and large, dark wood framed windows running along the Prince Street side of the building.

The entrance was up three small steps off Sullivan Street, and Castle reached round Kate to open the door for her, before following her in with a gentle hand at her back.

Kate linked her fingers with his as they waited at the hostess' station, having been assaulted by the noise coming from the bar the second they'd walked in through the door.

"This place is jumping," said Kate, leaning in close to Castle so that he could hear her above the noise.

"Mr. Castle?" said the tall, elegant, African American girl who greeted them. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. We have a lovely table for you and your wife in the dining room," said the woman," indicating the dark, and altogether less noisy space behind them. "Or you're welcome to have a drink at the bar beforehand, if you prefer?"

Kate looked at Castle, whose face said that he was still stuck on the word '_wife_', vacillating between correcting the hostess and enjoying the thought of that word when it was applied to _her_.

She decided to choose for them. Laying a possessive hand on Castle's chest, just inside the lapel of his jacket, she said, "Honey, how about you buy your wife a drink before dinner?"

Her wicked grin floored him, and so Kate threw an apologetic smile at the hostess, snagged Castle's hand and dragged him down into the throng.

By the time they'd battled their way through the rowdy, post-work crowd, who were clearly a few cocktails ahead of them in the drinking stakes, Castle seemed to have regained some of his faculties.

"Kate, don't _do_ that to me," he hissed in her ear, as she pushed her way to the bar.

Both his hands rested at her waist to keep them from being separated, and he tweaked her sides in revenge.

"_What?_" she asked, tossing him an innocent smile over her shoulder.

"You _know_ what. Play act like you're my wife," he whined, almost choking on the word.

"Well, you started it, Castle. A long time ago, in fact. Don't you remember? You said I was your work wife, because I was…hmm, now what was it?" she teased, while Castle grimaced, knowing exactly what was coming. "Ah, yes. That was it - _disapproving_ and _judgmental_," she said triumphantly, playing up to her audience of one.

She arched an eyebrow at him, keen to hear what he'd have to say to that one.

"Okay, so we both know that was back when I was a self-absorbed idiot who didn't know what he was talking about."

"And now?"

"_Now?_ I think you're mostly just disapproving," he joked, as the barman leaned across to take their order just in time.

How to tell her that it had become his ultimate goal in life to make her his wife. The hostess' mistake hadn't freaked her out, so that was a good sign. But anymore on the subject tonight and he risked jumping the gun, so to speak. So he wisely shut up.

* * *

"Rick, what are you drinking?" she yelled close to his ear, to be heard above the din.

Her fingers were warm and reassuring where they curled at his waist beneath the fabric of his jacket.

"Gin and tonic, please? Tanqueray Ten, lime, plenty…"

"Of ice. Yeah, I know," said Kate, patting his chest, and smiling her beautiful smile before relaying their order across the curved wooden bar.

Castle's stomach flipped at this easy familiarity they had quickly cultivated with one another. So good together that complete strangers assumed they were already married.

"Rick," said Kate, squeezing his elbow to get his attention, so that she could hand him his drink.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Thanks," he said, shaking his head to rid himself of the marital daydream he'd unconsciously drifted back into.

"Cheers," said Kate brightly, clinking glasses with him, her matching gin and tonic running with condensation already from the heat of too many bodies crammed into the bar.

Their height gave them an advantage that some of the smaller patrons lacked. Kate looked around her, taking in the crowd - the drinkers, the people eating at the bar and at low wooden tables all around them, the brick walls painted white, the chalkboard menus and large, low hanging industrial-looking lighting.

"This place is great," she yelled above the noise. "Why haven't we been here before?" she asked, clearly delighted by the crush and the noise and the buzz of the place.

"Couldn't get in," Castle said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "But we have actually been here before. It just wasn't _The Dutch_ back then."

Kate looked at him, puzzled. She frowned as she tried to remember being here at some point in the past with Castle.

"It looked kind of different," Castle explained, trying to help her. "Darker, a little more…uh _bohemian_, with exposed red brick walls, and worn velvet sofas."

He smiled as he watched the light dawn in her eyes.

"_No_. Not…The _Cub Rooms_?" she asked, sounding excited as a beautiful smile spread across her face. "We came here before you bought the Old Haunt, after one of our early cases. I remember," said Kate, squeezing his hand as nostalgia flooded through her. "You ordered Tequila shots for both if us, and we got really drunk."

Castle nodded, grinning at the memory.

"I nearly kissed you that night," confessed Kate, the revelation just rushing out of her mouth.

Castle looked stunned, and then terribly disappointed.

"Why didn't you?" he asked, sounding bereft.

"Because we weren't ready," she said simply. "It wasn't time. This way was so much better," she added, reaching up to tease his mouth with her own.

Someone next to them jostled against Castle, and he put his arms around Kate to steady them both as they slowed their kiss. His ice cold, damp glass made contact with the thin silk of her shift dress, and Kate moaned into his mouth, arching into him to get away from the cold sensation.

"You're one smart lady," he said, licking his lips. "But what I wouldn't have given to experience this way back then," he told her.

Kate tasted the sharp tang of lime juice on his lips, matching the flavor coating her own.

"Like I said, I almost did. But I'm glad that we waited. It would have been over between us before it even got started, and we probably would have hated one another in the morning. Now…when I wake up next to you…" she blushed, and looked to the side to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, but everyone seemed too merry to care. "Well, I just love waking up next to you," she said simply, kissing him quickly this time, and clinking her glass with his again.

"Cheers, Castle. Here's to waiting."

He stared at her, his eyes shining at her simple, apt, heartfelt toast.

"Cheers," he managed, clinking glasses with her.

When yet another happy, boisterous drunk bumped Castle's shoulder, sending him towards Kate, she calmly folded her fingers around his wrist and tugged his hand towards her stomach.

"Why don't we go claim our table before some other fraudulent marrieds get in there first?" she suggested with a wink, lightening the sentimental mood.

* * *

The dining room was a dark, wood paneled affair, all leather banquettes and low lighting. It was romantic, with none of the noise of the busy bar.

The hostess led them to a corner booth, and they slid in, one from each side, to meet in the middle, brushing shoulders as they settled themselves on the over-sprung upholstery.

"Your menus and the wine list, Mr. Castle. I hope you enjoy your evening," added the hostess, bowing, before backing away from the table to leave them alone.

"This the grown-up part you promised me?" asked Kate, shaking out her white linen napkin and laying it across her lap, while the fingers of Castle's right hand traced ever decreasing circles against her spine.

Kate took a sip from her water glass and shivered at the combination of her partner's touch and the ice cold liquid flooding through her overheated system. The air conditioning was set to high, and raised goose bumps along the surface of her arms. Kate could feel her nipples contracting under her dress, and she glanced sideways at Castle to see if he'd noticed. But he was studying the wine list, so she figured she was safe for now.

"What do you feel like?" he asked, sliding his hand up her thigh, fingers skidding over the slinky fabric. "White? Rosé? The soft-shell crab comes highly recommended here, so maybe stick to something lighter?" he suggested.

"Let's have rosé. Reminds me of Cabo," said Kate, leaning into him as she skimmed the menu.

"Rosé it is then."

When the sommelier approached their table, Castle ordered a bottle of Sancerre Rosé and a large sparkling water.

"So…the soft-shell crab?" said Kate, looking up from her menu to find Castle watching her.

She touched his chin with her fingertips and angled his head back down towards his own menu affectionately.

"Eh…yeah. Comes recommended," he said, distractedly, flicking his eyes up over Kate again before she could spot him.

"Menu, Rick," she chided quietly, amusement coating her voice.

"Yeah…right. Sorry. Eh, I think I'll go for that, and maybe the Korean-style hanger steak."

Kate laughed.

"You just want the fried rice," she teased, pointing to the accompaniment. "We could have stayed home and ordered in for that at a fraction of the cost."

"And miss out on a chance to show you off?"

A smile curled Kate's lips at Castle's obvious pride in her, but she kept her eyes over her own menu.

"You decided?" asked Castle, his fingers at her bare knee this time, stroking around and around her patella then ducking to the soft, tender spot behind her knee, until her leg jerked up to knock the underside of the table making their silverware rattle.

Kate settled her hand over Castle's and squeezed to stop him torturing her. Tingles ran up and down her thigh regardless.

"The asparagus and then the sea scallops," nodded Kate, laying the large white and navy menu back on the table now that she had made her decision. "And I'm getting hungry."

"Here, let me," said Castle, leaning in to kiss her tenderly. His tongue swept into her mouth and she clutched at his arm to steady herself, feeling slightly dizzy when Castle pulled away. "A little something to keep you going," he grinned, looking terribly pleased with himself when Kate's eyes fluttered back open.

"I was thinking bread, but…yeah, that'll work," laughed Kate, running her fingers lightly over her lips to soothe them and fix any smudged lipstick.

She turned to look at her partner. Castle had a deep red smear of color coating his mouth that looked decadent and comical at the same time. Kate fished a Kleenex out of her purse.

"Come here," she said, cupping the back of his neck with her hand to hold him still. "You look like Freddy Mercury," she laughed, wiping his mouth to get rid of the lipstick.

Castle looked at the Kleenex and his eyes widened.

"Did you get it all?" he asked, turning his mouth towards her for inspection.

"Yes. All good. No one will notice, Castle. Don't worry," she reassured him with a swift pat to his cheek.

* * *

The server arrived to take their order and deliver a very welcome selection of artisanal breads. Small slices of sun blush tomato, black olive and sea salt, and little squares of pesto and Parmesan focaccia were laid out on a black slate, with two rounds of salted French butter. Both writer and muse dived in, famished after a long day out interviewing, finished off by a few hours in the precinct with Melissa Garrity.

The food was exquisite, beautifully presented, and with a truly imaginative mix of flavors. Kate's asparagus came with a large hen's egg on top, and when she broke open the yolk, a little river of bright yellow sunshine ran out across the bright green stalks.

Castle's soft-shell crab had been tempura battered and lightly fried. It came with a Kaffir lime curry sauce and a sprinkling of peanuts on top, warm and spicy as Kate discovered when he fed her a substantial mouthful.

"Mmm-hmm. That is _so_ good," said Kate, licking her lips. "You want some of my asparagus?" she asked, already anticipating his answer.

"No, I'm good, thanks." He shook his head, focusing on his own dish.

"Don't want to ruin the deep fried vibe with a little vegetable?" mocked Kate.

"Steady, Detective. Peanuts grow on trees, so I'm pretty sure they count."

Kate snorted.

"Whatever you want to tell yourself, Rick."

The hangar steak and Kate's scallops were equally good. Kate moaned around a forkful of Castle's fried rice, and he teased her about it, while stealing a Jalapeno pepper off her plate.

"Jeez," he gasped, after biting into it. His eyes immediately started to water and he coughed a couple of times.

"Gotta watch out for those vegetables, Castle. They can be pretty lethal," she teased, handing him his glass of water.

"Could use a little sympathy here," he wheezed, dabbing at his eyes with his napkin as tears streamed down his face.

"Miss? Could we have a glass of milk? My husband's choking on a Jalapeno," said Kate, trying not to smirk when Castle bumped her foot with his.

"I could wipe that smile right off your face this instant, _Miss _Beckett," whispered Castle, stressing the Miss part heavily. "In front of all these good people. What do you think? Should I get down on one…"

Kate grabbed his wrist as Castle faked getting up from the table.

"Sit down if you know what's good for you, Richard Castle" she hissed, tugging on his wrist.

A smile broke free when she failed to contain it, and she blushed furiously.

Castle laughed at her.

"Am I embarrassing you?"

Kate readjusted her napkin and tried to look nonchalant.

"_Good_," he whispered, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder. "Then we're even."

They had coffee and finished off their wine. The restaurant thinned out, couples heading out into the night, happy and sated after an excellent meal.

"I told Ryan we'd be in at eight-thirty tomorrow," moaned Castle, flicking his tongue against Kate's neck, as she leaned towards him, flexing her fingers rhythmically against his thigh. "Why'd I do that?" he whined.

"I have no idea. You knew we were going out tonight."

Kate swallowed the last of her wine and scrunched up her napkin. Dropping it on the table, she patted Castle's leg and then rose a little unsteadily to her feet, holding out her hand to him.

"Come on. Take me home," she said, tugging him out of the booth after her.

"The bar was still in full swing as they headed across the foyer to the front door.

"I hope you enjoyed your evening?" asked the hostess, admiring the attractive pairing they made.

"We did, thank you," confirmed Kate, lacing her fingers with Castle's.

* * *

When they got out onto the front steps, it was immediately evident that a summer rainstorm had passed over while they were inside. The air felt fresher, and small rivers ran along the gutters of the dusty dry streets.

"Wait there. I'll get us a cab," said Castle, taking off his jacket to slip it around Kate's shoulders.

Before she could protest, he was off down the steps and had disappeared around the corner into Prince Street to find them a taxi.

Less than a minute passed, and the cab pulled up at the front door, leaving Kate just feet to walk to reach the curb. Castle threw the back door open and held out a hand to her to help her inside.

A rumble of thunder broke overhead as Kate pulled the door closed behind her.

"Just a short one, I'm afraid," Castle told the cabbie. "Corner of Crosby and Broome."

The cab whooshed through deep, fresh puddles, leaving rivulets of bubbles in its tire tracks. Steam rose from the roadway when they crossed West Broadway as the rain slowed to a stop and the warm air reasserted itself.

Kate waited under the awning of Castle's building while he paid the driver. Large, fat drips plopped onto the sidewalk, washing a summer's worth of dust and dirt into the storm drain.

Kate held the door open for him as he ran for cover, squeezing in through the doorway with her.

"That was so much fun," said Kate, nudging up beside him in the elevator, her natural reserve shot after the good bottle of wine. "We should go out during the week more often," she suggested, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, and next time, stop me running my mouth off to Ryan about coming in early to help him."

"You were caught up in the moment, enthusiastic, you're trying to help out. It's not a bad thing," she said, a little sleepily, as her fingers grasped his side, holding on.

Castle kissed her temple.

"Tell me that again when the alarm goes off at six and you curse at me for getting us out of bed so early."

"Who said anything about _us_?" joked Kate. "_You_ made the promise to Ryan. I don't remember anything about it involving me," she teased.

"You'd let me go into the Precinct alone? Seriously? To help out with _your_ job?" he asked, aghast.

"Nobody twisted your arm, Rick. I'm sure Gates appreciates your help."

"You're mocking me now," he huffed, as the doors opened on their floor.

"Maybe just a little. But you're so easy."

"Easy can play hard to get, Kate."

"Let's see you try," she said, smothering his mouth with a devastating kiss as they stumbled towards his door.

* * *

"Go. Wait for me. I'll get us some water," said Castle, shooing Kate towards the bedroom once they were inside.

"Like I'd start without you," she teased. "But hurry up or I might be tempted."

She had her dress halfway over her head when Castle came into the bedroom carrying two bottles of Evian. His hands were cold and damp and he hurried round to her side of the bed, planting his icy fingers against her ribs, leading to a loud yelp that he was sure both his mother and Alexis probably heard.

"_Castle!_" she exclaimed, shaking him off.

"Shhh," he giggled, as Kate hissed at him to help her take her dress the rest of the way off.

"Be my pleasure, Detective. You know I'm always happy to help where the removal of clothing is concerned."

Kate whacked him in the chest once she could see again.

"Get into bed," she ordered, kicking the bedroom door closed with her heel.

Castle gaped at her and then hurried to obey. His fingers worked frantically at his belt, tripped down over the small buttons of his shirt as he watched Kate climb up into his bed in just her underwear – a matching set of sheer lilac, the bra and tiny thong both edged in satin.

"Faster," she commanded, lying back against the pillows in the middle of the bed to watch him.

She'd kept her heels on and Castle didn't know where to look first. He trailed his eyes up from the spiked stilettos, along the endless, smooth, tan length of her legs until he reached the scrap of fabric she called underwear.

"Rick, what's the hold-up?" asked Kate, drumming her fingers against the mattress.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs just to work him up a little more, loving how off-balance she could make him with such a simple move.

"Right. Right. Coming," he mumbled, working desperately at the button and zipper on his black dress pants.

"I'm getting cold," Kate complained, "maybe I should cover up?" she suggested, leaning forward and pretending to tug on the comforter, giving him an improved view of her cleavage at the same time.

"_No!_" he exclaimed, rather too loudly. "No, don't do that. I'm…I'll be right there," he said in a panicked voice, dumping the rest of his clothes in a pile on the floor, eager to continue enjoying the view unimpeded by bedding or anything else for that matter.

"You going to warm me up a little?" she purred, running her hands through her hair, just the slightest bit drunk.

"I was going for a lot," said Castle, stalking towards her on his hands and knees. His weight dipped the mattress so she was forced closer to him.

When she walked her fingers around the back of his neck, teasing the soft hairs lightly, he shivered. When he reached her, he placed one hand either side of her hips to brace himself, and leaned down over her.

"You…Kate Beckett…" he whispered against her lips, "are utterly amazing. You make my heart beat faster, you make my brain work harder," he kissed her again. "You make my life complete, Kate. Don't." Kiss. "Ever." Kiss. "Stop."

His tongue pushed into her mouth startling them both, and then he crashed down on top of her when she wound her arms around his neck and tugged, eager to feel the weight of him on top of her.

Her spiked heel grazed the back of his calf muscle when she wound a leg around his thigh, arching her hips up into him, and he cursed into her mouth. The sharp pain delivered a flash of pleasure straight to his core and he instinctively rocked back against her.

"God you're amazing," he gasped into her mouth, tugging at the sheer cup of her bra to free one of her breasts.

His hot mouth was on her immediately, sucking, his tongue swirling over her nipple, working it into a hard point.

Kate gripped his head in her hands, and circled her hips impatiently against him, her breath coming fast and ragged now.

"Rick," she whispered in the dark. "Rick? I need to feel…oh god, yeah," she breathed as he slid his fingers down between them to touch her, setting up a delicious friction.

Kate's hips jerked against his hand, and she tightened her grip on his thighs with her own.

"Castle…you gotta…Castle, please?" she licked her lips, increasing the speed of her movement as she clutched at his back, her nails digging into tender flesh.

"Gotta what, Kate? Say it for me," he encouraged her, speeding up his rhythmic stroking the more aroused he could feel her become.

"I need you. Please?" she begged, pressing up against him.

His tongue was flicking circles on her abdomen, setting fire to her skin. Kate gripped onto his shoulders, riding out this knife-edge of pleasure with him, the rise and fall as they moved together, not quite there, but teetering on the brink.

"Castle," panted Kate breathlessly, her throat dry as she choked out the words "so close. God, I need you to..."

Kate laughed out in surprise as he reached down the bed, tugged off her shoes and threw them across the room. He caught one ankle, and moved her leg up towards her knee so that it was bent, giving him greater access to her.

"These are beautiful," he said, running a finger under the edge of her thong again, tantalizingly close to where she needed him, but still, achingly, too far away.

"You break it, you buy it," grinned Kate against his cheek as he surged up over her chest, pulling her delicate underwear aside to enter her.

"I'll buy you anything you want. Now where were we?" he murmured, rising up over her again and again until Kate was whimpering his name and gripping onto his shoulders, her eyes screwed shut as she neared that incredible pinnacle of pleasure only Castle seemed capable of taking her to.

* * *

Afterwards, when they were lying tangled up in one another, a mess of limbs and hastily shed clothing, Kate forced herself to roll over to the nightstand to grab her phone.

"So, six, you said?"

"Thought you weren't going to join me?" asked Castle, tugging her onto her back so he could plant tiny, delicate kisses down one arm and then across the smooth plane of her stomach.

"After _that_…? I think I owe you," she murmured, a lazy smile playing at her lips.

"Owe me? God, Kate. You're kidding, surely? You're just…_amazing_. I've got to be _the_ luckiest guy…"

Kate cut him off with a gentle kiss.

"Shhh, Castle. I love you too. But we _really_ have to get some sleep. So close your eyes."

_A/N: Sorry for the delay. Hope this was a fun little interlude from casework for them?_


	21. Chapter 21 The Morning After

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 21 – The Morning After_

Six a.m., and Kate's alarm went off as scheduled. They both groaned and rolled towards one another from their respective sides of the bed.

"Morning," Castle grunted, scrunching down to kiss Kate's naked shoulder.

"Morning," murmured Kate, still coming to, one arm thrown across her face to shield her eyes from the light that was leaking into the bedroom.

"You forgot to close the bathroom door last night," Castle grumbled, squinting against the daylight himself.

"Eh…_who_ did?" asked Kate, unable to believe what she was hearing.

Castle started to repeat himself, but Kate cut him off.

"_You_ were last to use the bathroom. At four a.m. I distinctly remember."

"You're closest," Castle grumbled nonsensically, completely ignoring logic as he rolled onto his side.

Kate laughed, and shifted her arm off her face so she could turn her head to look at him. Castle's face was adorably squashed up against his pillow so that his lips and cheeks were puckered up, his hair was standing on end, and his eyes looked puffy.

"Baby?" Kate whispered, leaning in close to his ear.

Since she typically did not use terms of endearment, except maybe one or twice when something had slipped out in the heat of passion, she knew that she was likely to get his attention this way.

"Huh?" Castle grunted, cracking one puffy eye open to peer at her, doing a good impression of an owl in the process.

"I love you, and I know that you like your sleep, Rick. But you kind of promised Ryan that you'd be in early today to help him go through that database," she reminded him gently.

Castle rolled over onto his back, yawning loudly, and then he scrubbed two hands across his face to waken himself up.

Kate watched the whole show with affection and amusement. But when he stretched like a big cat, she had to stop herself from pouncing on him, when the sheet slid down low on his waist, exposing the dark line of hair that dipped down from below his navel to more tempting places further eh…south.

She sat up abruptly in bed, swung her feet over the side, and hurried off to the bathroom to take a cold shower. Alone.

* * *

"Richard Castle, stop behaving like a sulky five year old," chided Kate, as Castle complained for the umpteenth time that morning that he was tired, and it was too early, and _really_, did they have to go in at this hour?

"Can I remind you who set this up?" asked Kate, rolling her eyes at him as the elevator descended down through his building.

She held the glass door open for him when they exited the lobby, but he still managed to hit the doorframe, ricocheting off with an exclamation that sounded something like '_oof!_'.

"You okay?" she asked, taking his elbow to guide him towards her car, which was parked down the block.

"We need to stop for coffee," he said, clutching at her hand as if he expected her to refuse him.

"Are you kidding me? We're getting coffee _before_ I let you into my car, Castle. No way I'm listening to you mump and moan your way through early morning traffic without a caffeine fix."

"Great. Steer me towards Toni's, and then I promise I'll be good."

"You'd better be. Because I distinctly remember it was _you_ who woke _me_ up at four this morning for round two of Happy Endings, and while I am always up for a little early morning delight. Did you really have to choose _this _morning, Castle?"

She looked at him with her lips pursed together, and he guessed from her expression that she meant she wasn't happy with him. Not really, despite whatever confusing words she'd just used to describe his little early morning foray into Happyland.

"Sorry?" he hedged, hoping it was the right answer. He just couldn't get his brain working this morning.

"Just…don't spill anything," she warned him, all the annoyance and frustration finally seeping out of her tone when she reached up to touch his cheek.

* * *

They stood in line at Toni's, waiting for their order in silence, listening to the world chatter all around them. Kate eventually leant her chin on Castle's shoulder and tugged on the back of his pants.

"Are we getting boring?" she asked, flicking at his ear with her tongue just to distract him.

"Boring? What makes you think that?" he asked, swiveling his head to look at her to see if he could figure out whether she was being serious or not.

"We're not talking," she said bluntly. "Look around, Castle. Everyone else is having a conversation," she pointed out, indicating a few people around them. "Do you think…I mean, are we getting stale?"

Castle laughed, but Kate still looked serious.

"Kate, we just spent an entire _evening_ talking to one another. Then we…" he coughed and lowered his voice, "carried on a little _non-verbal_ communication back at home, and…"

"Twice," she interjected, whispering the word seductively into his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He whipped around.

"Are you messing with me?"

The grin on her face said it all.

"Beckett, _shut up_. It's too early for this," he moaned, trying to prize her fingers off his belt.

Kate laughed. "You really don't do well with early rises, do you?" she observed with amusement. "All those DBs we got called out to over the last four years, in the early hours or the middle of the night…must have been _killing_ you to force yourself up for that. And all just so that you could stalk me," she said gleefully.

"I was not stalking," he hissed, worried someone would hear them. "I was following you…for _research_," he added, smiling stiffly at the woman in front of him who had turned round to stare when Kate used the word '_stalk_'.

"Yeah, whatever you want to tell yourself, Castle. The words are semantics. Amounts to the same thing – you knocked yourself out just to spend time with me. For _four years_," she said triumphantly.

"Okay, well I'm awake now. So your little ploy worked."

"What ploy?" asked Kate, feigning innocence.

"Let's rile Castle up by getting him into an argument."

"Hmm. Is that what you think I was doing?" she smirked.

"Kate," he growled, "this is me. Half asleep or not, I pride myself on knowing you well enough to guess what you're up to. Most of the time," he conceded, when she raised an eyebrow at him.

"That so, Detective Castle?" she teased, flexing her fingers against his stomach. "So, what am I doing right now?" she asked, nibbling on his earlobe.

Castle moaned and pressed back against her.

"Order for Mr. and Mrs. Castle," called out the young woman at the serving station, interrupting their moment. "Mr. and Mrs. Castle?" the girl repeated, only louder this time when no one immediately came forward.

She scanned the line for the offending customers.

Kate froze. Her fingers stopped moving against Castle's shirt. She couldn't believe her ears.

"Well," he said, nudging her forward, "are you going to claim them or shall I?"

His grin said it all. He wasn't _that_ fast asleep, and it served her right for turning off the hot water in the shower before he was done, making him scream like a girl when the cold stream hit his back unexpectedly.

Kate's face was priceless. Her cheeks were bright red. The woman in front had turned back around and was staring at _Kate_ now, and she clearly didn't know where to look. The spike in her heart rate caused Castle's ridiculous little joke made her feel supremely uncomfortable. She feared that she was starting to want things, things with Castle that they had barely discussed, except maybe to joke around. So she went for self-preservation.

"Just get the coffees, Castle," said Kate under her breath, turning to leave the coffee shop. "I'll be at the car."

"Are you _The_ Richard Castle? The crime writer?" asked the woman in front, who seemed to have forgotten all about his supposed stalking history the second she heard his name.

"Yes, ma'am," said Castle politely, edging round her to fetch their coffee order.

"Your wife is beautiful," she grinned. "Much prettier than that Nikki Heat."

Castle nodded inanely at her, thanked her for the compliment, and made a hasty retreat to find Kate – last seen heading for the exit wearing her 'pissed at Castle' face.

Kate was leaning against the driver's side door of the car when he arrived, arms crossed, and he was relieved to see that she had a smile on her face.

"Okay. So you got me good with that one," she conceded. "Could have picked something a little less public though."

"Oh, I don't know. The woman in front told me my wife was beautiful. Much better looking than Nikki Heat, apparently. So it was pretty much worth it for that alone. That, and to see the look on your face when that girl called out…"

"Okay, Rick. I said you got me. Now can we just get _in_ the car, _drink_ our coffee, and get to work without further incident?"

"Sure. But first, I need a kiss."

"Castle…"

He leaned in, puckering up his lips for her. Kate grinned at how ridiculous he looked.

"Is that a kiss from me you're looking for, or one from Mrs. Castle? Because if it's the latter, I'm afraid you're out of luck."

"Why?"

"Because she sailed off into the sunset some time ago, no doubt taking a healthy chunk of change with her."

Kate looked smug, pleased with her answer.

"If we're being factually correct here, and you know how I like to be…"

"Pedantic?" inserted Kate.

"I'm going to ignore that slur. Anyway, as I was saying, if we're being factually correct, there has never actually _been_ a Mrs. Richard Castle," said Castle, tugging her up against him by her hips. His thumbs brushed across her stomach, teasing her abdominals until they fluttered under his touch. "In fact, I've been saving that spot for someone special," he added, rubbing his nose up against Kate's.

"That so?" she grinned, brushing his neck with her lips.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Well, I hope you find your special someone," she murmured, kissing him quickly on the lips, before she pushed him off her with two hands to his chest.

Kate ducked around her partner to open her door, fetch her coffee off the roof of the car, and then slide inside, all while Castle stood on the sidewalk looking rather dumbstruck, but amused.

She lowered her window.

"You comin', Castle?" she called, throwing him a grin.

"You know you want me," he called back, as he rounded the car. "I'll wear you down eventually."

"You wore me down a long time ago, Castle," said Kate, when he slid into the passenger seat beside her. "Now, buckle up. Or we're gonna be late."

* * *

Ryan was violently striking the delete key on his computer keyboard when Kate and Castle reached her desk.

"Damn thing," he cursed, pounding the offending key over and over.

"Ryan, something the matter?" asked Kate, peering over his shoulder.

"Stupid computer's frozen on me, and Gates wants an update, stat."

"Can I be of assistance?" asked Castle, sidling up next to Kate to look over Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan looked up at Kate for advice. "Can he really fix this?" he asked her, as if Castle wasn't there.

"Seriously?" asked Kate. "Ryan, he worked wonders on mine. He really has a hidden talent."

"Castle worked wonders on your _what?_" asked Esposito, loudly.

The two FBI Agents swiveled their heads in tandem to stare over at Kate.

"Is this stuff you even want to be sharing with us, Beckett? Castle's, what did you call it? Oh yeah, his _hidden talent_," added Esposito, smirking at Ryan, and then 'feeding the birds'.

"If Gates fires your ass for being late with that report, don't come crying to me, Ryan," said Kate, turning on her heel to go back to her own desk after glaring at Esposito.

As Castle moved into the space she'd just vacated to get a better look at Ryan's computer, Kate added, "And Castle, you touch that machine or help him with that report, and you'll be going home alone tonight. Understand?"

"Sorry, bro," said Castle, patting Ryan on the shoulder.

Then he wandered over to sit in his own chair beside Kate's desk. He lasted maybe sixty seconds, and then he looked over at her. She had her head bowed over her notebook, reading back over the notes she'd taken during the interview with Melissa Garrity the day before.

"_What?_" she asked, without even raising her head.

Castle stroked his chin.

"Castle, just spit it out," she said, raising her eyes from the page to look at him this time.

"How do you _do_ that?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Why are you answering a question with a question?" she countered.

"Hey. Mom and dad are fighting," hissed Esposito, in his best stage whisper.

"No," said Kate, firmly, "we are _not_. We're having an adult conversation, Espo. You and Ryan should try it sometime."

"_Ouch!_" said Ryan, laughing at his partner.

"Castle?" prompted Kate, turning her attention back to the writer.

"I'm doing what you said, Kate. But, do you remember _why_ we had to come in here so early this morning?"

"So that you could help Ryan search the Cryogenics database," she said, as if speaking to a five year old.

"Exactly. And I can't _do_ that if his computer is busted. _So_…" Castle tilted his head towards Ryan's desk and raised his eyebrows.

"Fine," huffed Kate. "Fix it. But don't help him write that report or so help me."

* * *

"Someone got out the wrong side of the bed this morning," Ryan commented to Castle under his breath.

"Late night," muttered Castle, leaning over Ryan's keyboard. "And an early morning," he added, pausing to let his words sink in, a self-satisfied grin gracing his face.

"Ew! Too much info, man," exclaimed Esposito, covering his ears.

"What's going on over here?" asked Captain Gates, suddenly appearing next to Ryan's desk without any warning. "_Well?_ Mr. Castle?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

Castle wondered, and not for the first time, why the woman always picked on him first.

"I was fixing Ryan's computer," he explained, trying to look innocent, helpful, and adorable all at once.

"I wasn't aware that you'd joined Tech Support, Mr. Castle?" she said archly, her face twitching. "This another one of your many and varied talents?" she asked dryly.

Kate swiveled in her seat, instantly protective of her partner, but she could think of nothing to say to defend him. Castle wisely assumed that the Captain's question was rhetorical, and kept his mouth shut.

"Just get me that damned report, Ryan," Gates huffed, when nobody spoke up. The she turned on her heel and stomped back to her office.

"She has ninja in her DNA," hissed Castle, watching the Captain's retreating back. "Feet like a cat, moves like an assassin."

"She'll assassinate your ass if you don't get that fixed, and help me with this report," said Ryan.

Castle looked stricken.

"Bro, you more worried about Beckett or Gates?"

He opened and closed his mouth like a guppy, but nothing came out.

"Help the man with his report. So Beckett cuts off your supply for one night – big deal. Gates can cut you off permanently."

At that, Castle came alive again.

"Don't even," he hissed, so Kate wouldn't hear him, "mention Gates and Beckett in the same sentence. Do you hear me? You'll taint my fantasies."

"Ain't nobody wants to hear about your sick fantasies, bro," muttered Esposito, signing off a DD5 and filing it in his out tray.

"I have a very fertile imagination, I'll have you know," said Castle. "You boys could learn a thing or two from the master," he whispered, beckoning Ryan and Esposito closer.

"What're you mastering now?" asked Kate, sliding her chair over to Ryan's desk and bumping Castle in the back of the knees, making him jerk forward.

"Nothing," all three men said quickly, immediately trying to look busy.

So man code wasn't dead after all. Kate eyed them suspiciously, and then rolled her chair back to her desk.

"Ninja powers," whispered Castle, "I bet it's that water fountain in the women's bathrooms. They all seem to have that ninja thing round here."

"And we got extra sensitive hearing as part of the most recent upgrade," said Kate, raising her voice. "So don't even think about it."

Castle widened his eyes, and then went back to fixing Ryan's computer in silence. They didn't speak for the next five minutes.

* * *

"No. No. Nope. Too Latin, too white, too ugly, too…oh wait. Yeah, that could work. Scrunch up your eyes," he said to Ryan, pointing to yet another baby photo on the screen. That nose look familiar to you?"

Ryan sighed, rubbed his eyes, and leant back in his chair. "One kid is starting to look pretty much like the next one, Castle," he complained.

"How can you _say_ that?" asked Castle, continuing to flip through the Cryogenics database. "Ugly babies rarely make beautiful adults, and all of our missing male twins are model material."

"Whatever," grumbled Ryan. "I bet I'm going to have nightmares tonight. Nightmares full of giant, talking babies…with ninja powers. Look, we've matched three of them already. We only have another two to go. I'll go make more coffee. You carry on looking," he told Castle, getting up from his desk to go to the break room.

"But I make better coffee," Castle pointed out.

"You also just claimed to have a better imagination. So, you stick with this and _I_ will make the coffee. You can clearly see things in those creepy photos that I can't."

The writer looked pleased with himself. He resumed the computer search without complaint, satisfied that he was finally being entrusted with real Police work for a change.

"Don't flatter yourself, Castle," drawled Kate laconically, watching the giddy grin slip off his face. "Ryan's bored, and he's trying to stick you with all the leg work. Oldest trick in the book. Rookie 101."

Castle ignored Kate's jibe, and stared at the screen.

"Well, lookie here. Our missing twins just dropped to a pool of one. 'Cause _that_, my dear Beckett, is definitely Rudy Jones."

Kate got up from her desk and came over behind Castle. She leaned over his shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

"My god, Ryan was right. You _are_ good at this," she said, sounding pleased and proud as she looked at Rudy Jones' baby photo and back to the most recent, up-to-date headshot lying on the desk. They were a match. "And it's not the only thing you're good at," she whispered seductively, her breath hot on his ear.

Castle swiveled his head round to look up at her, and found their lips just an inch apart. They both froze, eyes darting to mouths, and back up again. If he leaned in just a fraction he could…

"Good morning! Detective Beckett. Mr. Castle. Busy solving crimes, I see," came the bright, overly cheerful voice of Jordan Shaw.

Castle groaned, and Kate stood up abruptly, stepping back away from her partner, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

'_Ninja women'_, thought Castle, entirely freaked now at getting caught out three times in one morning, and by three different women. He kept his mouth shut, turned back to study Ryan's computer, grateful when the Irish detective arrived with their coffees and he was able to show him Rudy Jones.

"Find Philip Bateman, and we've got a full house," said Ryan, handing Castle a cup of coffee. "And _that_ should be enough to get us a warrant for Dr. Ellenton's files."

* * *

"Espo," asked Kate, "you manage to track down that photographer boyfriend of Melissa Garrity's yet? Eh…Jeremy Eldridge?"

"This is a weird one, Beckett," he started to say.

"Yes or no, Javi?" asked Kate impatiently, feeling Jordan and Gates watching her from inside Gates' office.

Esposito looked up at her and frowned.

"Sorry," Kate sighed. "Just…they're watching us again. Feels like we're working under some kind of test conditions. Like lab rats, or something."

"Right," said Esposito, observing Kate for a second before continuing on. "So I found a Yellow Pages listing for Eldridge Photography, based on Little West 12th in the Meatpacking District, just like you said. But other than that, this guy is a ghost. He can't be paying corporation tax, income tax, or State taxes of any kind, 'cause there are no other records for the company."

"What? _Nothing?_ What about E-File? Did you check if he's registered for that?"

"Nada. And no employees means no Employer Identification Number either. He has a Social Security number, but the records only go back four years, and his driver's license is the same."

"What about Property taxes?"

"Doesn't own the building, space is rented."

"You think it's a front?" asked Kate, looking at the Yellow Pages online listing that Esposito had printed out.

"Only one way to find out," said Esposito.

Kate nodded. "We go pay the man a visit."

_A/N: Sorry about the delay (again). Thanks for sticking with the story, and for sharing your thoughts. Hope you're enjoying it._


	22. Chapter 22 Darkrooms and Dirty Old Men

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 22 – Darkrooms and Dirty Old Men_

"You're going with Espo? _Why?_" asked Castle, a worried frown creasing his brow, his tone plaintive.

"Because _he_ tracked down the photographer for me. We won't be gone long. You finish up with Ryan, and I'll call you when I'm on my way back," promised Kate.

"But you're coming home with me tonight, right?" he asked, catching her sleeve.

"Is that what this is about?" asked Kate, her face softening in amusement.

Castle looked at his feet, embarrassed by his sudden display of insecurity.

"Rick?" asked Kate, to make him look at her without physically having to tilt his chin up in the middle of the bullpen.

Castle pouted, but he did look up.

"I just…"

"Hey. Partner?" she said, trying to sound light and reassuring at the same time. "You have nothing to worry about. Find David Gross, and then have Ryan show you how to apply for a warrant. That ought to keep you guys busy until we get back."

All the impatience she'd felt towards him that morning had vanished, and now she wanted to kiss him softly and slowly to let him know exactly how she felt about him. He could be equal parts maddening and equal parts unbearably sweet. She settled for a quick squeeze of his wrist instead, grabbed her jacket, and headed for the elevator.

* * *

They drove south, or Kate did, on 9th Avenue, until they reached the corner with Little West 12th, right where Pastis was located. The sun was out, and the restaurant's terrace was packed with diners, blending seamlessly from brunch into lunch, some of whom would doubtless be there when dinner rolled around.

Kate turned right and pulled over, bumping the Crown Vic across the broken cobbles towards the curb as soon as she spied a parking spot. Half way up the block on the right hand side was the most nondescript door Kate had ever seen, set into the concrete and brick façade of what appeared to be some kind of old warehouse.

"Could this _be_ anymore discreet?" she asked Esposito, when they reached the doorway.

The metal door was painted Federal Standard green, and was dented and chipped from years of abuse and benign neglect. Cobwebs coated with dust laced the edges of the door, and a few old cigarette butts littered the sidewalk to the left of the entrance, showing signs of having been soaked and then dried out in the sun several time over. Kate shifted one with the toe of her shoe, and it moved aside to leave a faint rusty tar stain on the concrete with a void underneath, reminiscent of the chalk outline around a dead body in some fictional, tv or movie crime scene. So they definitely weren't fresh.

A hand written sign was nailed to a board to the right of the door, and had been covered with a sheet of Perspex to protect it from the weather. The artistic script read simply, _Eldridge Photography_. Nothing more.

A small white bell push was fixed to the wall below the sign. Kate pressed it and they waited. No sound emitted from the buzzer, and at first, no one came. So Kate pressed the button again, harder this time, tapping her foot impatiently as she began to suspect that they'd perhaps made a wasted journey.

Just as they were about to turn and walk away, footsteps neared the far side of the door, echoing off the brick walls of an internal corridor as they approached, and then the door creaked open on rusty hinges, swinging out towards them.

A wrinkled face, male, around sixty years old, though he could have been younger or older since the dim light in the corridor threw most of his features into shadow, peered at them through the crack he'd just created.

"This Eldridge Photography?" Esposito asked the old man, taking the lead. "We're looking for Jeremy Eldridge."

"Aren't we all, son. Aren't we all," said the old man cryptically, before moving to close the door on them.

"Wait," cried Esposito, inserting a booted foot in between the frame and the door to prevent the old man from closing it all the way.

"What?" he grunted.

"You don't know where he is? Or he just ain't here right now?" asked Esposito, holding the door open with his hand.

"He could be dead for all I know," said the old man. "I clean, I sweep, I lock up, I go home."

"You the caretaker, Mr…?" asked Kate, waiting for the man to fill in his own name. He didn't.

"No, I'm the landlord," he said sarcastically. "Who's askin'?"

"Oh," said Kate.

The old man cackled, and a crackly rumble of phlegm ricocheted around his chest cavity.

"What? You think I'd be pushing a broom around this hole if I actually owned the place, sweetheart," he laughed, revealing an impressive gap in his lower and upper teeth.

"You think maybe we can come in and discuss this a little more…eh," Esposito looked from side-to-side, as if the empty street were teeming with people, and then he looked back at the old man, and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "privately?" he asked, withdrawing a ten dollar bill from his wallet, and folding it between his fingers for the caretaker to see.

The old man paused for an obscene fraction of a second before pushing the door open with one hand, and relieving Esposito of the ten spot with the other. Then he proceeded to usher them quickly inside.

* * *

The dark corridor led to an equally dark studio of sorts, lit from above by a run of glass covered windows, or roof lights, set high in the ceiling of the warehouse. The back wall contained a white infinity curve - the neutral backdrop used by photographers to shoot their subjects against. The floor was poured concrete, the walls exposed brick painted a dark grey. The whole effect was gloomy and cave-like, as if they'd dropped below ground for a worm's eye view of the world.

Mr. Schmitt (the ten spot had loosened his tongue a little) had left a broom and dustpan in the corner. The floor was clear, though a few Kappa board cutouts had been left propped up against the wall. Kate turned one over, and gestured for Esposito to take a look.

"United Colors of Benetton," she said, holding up the lightweight logo.

"Looks like our guy," said Esposito, turning back round to look for Mr. Schmitt.

"Hey. There a darkroom in here? Or an office…somethin'?" asked Esposito.

"Back corner. Might be locked though. I don't go in there," he said, working the broom in an ineffective circle, while watching them surreptitiously.

"You Police?" he asked Kate, somewhat belatedly.

Kate sighed. "You're the caretaker, and you let just _anybody_ in here?"

"Not just anybody," replied Mr. Schmitt, with another phlegmy laugh. "Gotta have the right password, my dear, if you know what I mean? Gotta have the green," he said, coughing so hard Kate was worried he was going to spit, so she made for the back corner to get out of his way.

* * *

"Find anything?" she asked, coming up behind Esposito.

He was fiddling with the handle of a door that was set into the sidewall of the space. A red-capped safelight was fixed to the brick at shoulder height next to the doorframe, indicating that the darkroom was inside.

"It's sticking," he complained, rattling the handle backwards and forwards.

"Sticking as in _locked_, Javi?" asked Kate, raising an eyebrow at him.

Esposito stared her out, removing a small key from his wallet.

"A bump key, are you _serious_?" she hissed, flicking a quick glance over her shoulder.

"You keep an eye out for him, and I'll just…"

Esposito stopped talking so that he could concentrate while he inserted the key into the lock. He halted one notch short then bumped the key forward, and rotated his wrist at the same time, to drive the pins upwards and turn the cylinder, thus opening the lock.

He turned and grinned at Kate. "See, it was just sticky, like I said," he joked, feigning innocence.

"I can't believe I just let you…" she sighed, nudging him forward, though the door. "Here," she said, handing him a pair of latex gloves, "at least put these on."

"You give Castle this much grief when you guys are out on a job?" he asked, giving Kate an amused look.

"Castle doesn't casually engage in B&E, Javi, as if he was just letting himself in through his own front door. He just…he _talks_," she said, looking sideways at Esposito, and allowing her stern look to dissolve into a smile, as warm thoughts of her partner and his frequent silliness flooded her brain.

"Yeah, the guy talks _a lot_," added Esposito, walking over to a counter to sift through a stack of photographs.

"Hey, don't dis my partner," said Kate, jumping to Castle's defense. "He gets enough of that crap from Gates," she added absentmindedly. "Hmm, come look at this," she said, unpinning a couple of photographs from the small line that had been strung up across the sink.

"Is that…Caitlin Williams?" he asked, peering at the glossy 8x10" prints.

"The very same," said Kate, holding them up to the light.

"She looks so young in these," said Esposito, taking a handful of photographs and flipping through them.

"Yeah, well, I guess death'll do that to you," said Kate dryly.

Esposito cast her a sideways glance.

"_What?_"

"Bit cold. Even for you."

"What do you mean, _even for me_?"

"Nothin'"

"Javi?"

"Nothin', Beckett. Just…a stupid remark. I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. Let's go through this stuff before crusty out there comes sniffing round for more greenback."

Kate watched her friend for second or two longer, puzzled by the off-hand remark he'd just made, and then she shook it off and went back to searching the darkroom.

* * *

The exposed shelves, mounted on the walls of the room, were stocked with exactly the items you'd expect to see in any professional studio where they still processed film the old fashioned way. Bottles of developing solution, stop bath of acetic acid, and fixer lined the shelf, along with sealed boxes of Kodak photographic paper, and unused rolls of film.

The counter tops were laid out neatly, with plastic trays spaced side-by-side to speed the developing process. Tongs had been hooked over the side of each tray in readiness, possibly indicating that a job was imminent. A bulky, professional enlarger took up prime position in the middle of the bench, and a timer sat beside it waiting for use. The closed up air smelt of vinegar and dust.

Esposito checked the cupboards, while Kate took the drawers.

"Got more chemicals in here, few rolls of kitchen towel, hand sanitizer. God this guy's a neat freak, whoever he is. There's enough bleach in here to…"

"To what?" asked Kate, closing an empty drawer.

"What would he need this much bleach for?" asked Esposito, sinking down on his haunches before the open cupboard to take stock.

"How much is _this much_…oh _wow!_ Like, one, two, five, _seven_ _gallons_ of the stuff. Well, I know it's not part of the developing process, so…"

"Ask crusty on our way out?" suggested Esposito.

"You can try. But he already said he doesn't come in here, and by the look of the guy, I'd say he isn't that particular. Take a photo of that stuff and let's keep moving."

Kate continued searching the drawers. She found clips to hang prints up on the line to dry, more rolls of film – exposed this time, the odd negative, a ball of elastic bands, Sharpies, pencils and other assorted stationery items, but nothing incriminating - no paperwork, no addresses, until…

The last drawer she got to was jamming against something, and she could only get it open a couple of inches. She flattened her hand and reached inside, grazing her knuckles on the underside of the counter as she pressed down on the piece of cardboard that was preventing it from opening all the way. Finally it came free, and the drawer ran smoothly, sliding out towards her to reveal a plastic container full of brand new syringes, and a cardboard box of glass vials, all containing the powerful sedative, Rohypnol.

"Well, just what so we have here?" asked Esposito, lifting the box out to count the 2mg ampoules.

The drug was branded, an import from Germany, with the Roche logo printed on the side and the drug's pharmacological name, Flunitrazepam, listed beneath the trade name Rohypnol.

"A box of fifty, with…sixteen missing. Second box still unopened."

Esposito looked at Kate.

"What the hell is a photographer doing with enough bleach to whiten all the dirty laundry at Sing Sing, and enough roofies to tranq every animal in Central Park Zoo?"

Kate shook her head.

"Photograph these, and then put it all back exactly where we found it. I'm going to talk to our friend, Mr. Schmitt. See if he knows more than he's letting on."

* * *

Kate found the caretaker lurking outside the door, making vague efforts to sweep up again, but barely hiding the fact that he'd been eavesdropping.

"I'd like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Schmitt, if I may?" she started off politely.

"Gonna cost you," the old man hissed, a greedy smirk on his face.

Kate sighed, and then fished around in the pocket of her jeans for her billfold. She handed him a ten, and tucked the rest away.

The bill disappeared so fast from Schmitt's hand that Kate felt like suggesting he try out as a magician. But he made unpleasant viewing, and with that cough, he was even more unpleasant to listen to, so she quashed the idea quickly.

"When did you last see Jeremy Eldridge?"

"Dunno."

"Does he come here regularly? I mean, the same time everyday, every week? What?"

Mr. Schmitt shrugged.

"I'm not his keeper."

"Who's the landlord, and how can I get in contact with him?"

"He's Israeli. Lives in Hebron. He wires my wages. Comes here maybe once, twice a year."

"So…what about tenants? How does he keep in contact with them?"

"There's only Mr. Eldridge. He pays his rent, there is no problem. Everyone is happy."

"But you said…_earlier_, when we were outside, you said everyone was looking for him, like he had disappeared or something. What did you mean?"

"He promised to take photographs of my grandchildren. Weeks and weeks ago. I haven't seen him since…mid-April I think."

"But he's still been coming here?" asked Kate. "To work. I mean you just missed him, right? Is that what you're saying? Maybe he works at night?"

"No. I think everything is the same when I come. There is no garbage to throw out, the refrigerator is empty, the toilets are unused. I just sweep up a little, but there is nothing more to do."

"So…are you saying that Mr. Eldridge has shut up shop, or that he has disappeared altogether?"

"I don't know about disappeared, but he is no longer here. That is all I know."

"And you have no forwarding address, no phone number for him, I suppose," said Kate, anticipating the old man's answer.

He shook his head.

"And the landlord? You know how I can get in contact with…" Kate raised her eyebrows and bobbed her head forward, waiting for the old man to fill in the blank.

"Ari," supplied Schmitt. "Ari Frankel."

The irony of the old German working for the Jewish entrepreneur was not lost on Kate, but she wisely kept it to herself.

"You got an address for this Ari?"

"Give me your card. I will call you," he promised, and Kate could feel the possible lead slipping away. "_What?_" he asked, as if reading her mind. "You paid the piper, Detective Kate Beckett," he explained, reading her name off her business card. "So Schmitt will keep his end of the bargain. My Rolodex is in my other suit, or I could tell you right now" he laughed, before breaking off into another coughing fit.

"Just…make sure you make the call," said Esposito, coming up behind her. "Or we'll be back to find you."

"You can call off your Rottweiler, Detective. I am a man of my word."

_A/N: Faster update this time. Hope you liked it._


	23. Chapter 23 What Were You Thinking?

**Disclaimer: Characters, unless original, are the property of Andrew Marlowe and his team.**

_Chapter 23 – What Were You Thinking?_

"We brought lunch," said Kate, beaming at Castle with such warmth radiating out of her eyes, when she and Esposito returned from visiting the photographer's studio. "Did you guys play nice?" she teased, itching to kiss her partner, but wisely holding back in front of everyone.

The smile she got back nearly floored her. Castle's face just lit up as soon as he saw her, and his blue eyes danced and sparkled with unshielded love and affection.

Oh god they had no chance.

"You missed me," she murmured for his ears only, skimming his arm with her fingers as she passed by to hang up her jacket.

"You have no idea," he replied, catching her belt loop on the way past and giving it a playful tug.

"Come on. Lets take our food into the break room and catch up," she suggested, herding Ryan and Esposito in along with them, to Castle's slight disappointment.

"So, how'd you guys make out?" asked Ryan, dishing out the plastic cutlery and a stack of napkins Kate had produced from one of the takeout bags.

"We got inside the studio," explained Esposito, "but aside from the creepy old caretaker, no sign of Jeremy Eldridge."

"What we _did_ find, however, was a stash of Rohypnol, with a few missing vials, a pile of disposable syringes, _and_ enough bleach to…how'd you put it Javi?" asked Kate.

"Clean all the dirty laundry in Sing Sing."

"Right. That was it. What we haven't figured out yet is what all that stuff was doing there," said Kate.

Castle looked up from his grilled chicken wrap, licking his finger to catch a dribble of mayo that was threatening to cut loose and drip onto his pants.

"What does a photographer want with Rohypnol? I mean other than drugging someone, what's it good for? You know, we should ask Lanie if it has any alternative uses. You think his subjects were maybe a little unwilling?"

Kate raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, considering the thought.

"See any sign of S&M gear, or a kinky photo shoot setup? Masks, whips, decadently dressed beds? 'Cause, maybe we're talking snuff movies or stills at least. There's a big market for that kind of stuff," Castle chattered on.

He quickly added, "Or so I'm led to believe," when Kate jerked her head in his direction and narrowed her eyes at him.

"No, man. Just an empty studio space, and a darkroom full of all the regular stuff you'd expect to find. I got photos on my FBI tablet, if you want to see," confirmed Esposito.

"We _did _find photographs of Caitlin Williams hanging up in the lab space though. And there was a Benetton logo lying against the wall, so we can be pretty certain that we had the right studio at least. But it definitely felt as if it'd lain unused for a while. The air was musty in the darkroom. Door was locked, so we had to…eh…_improvise_," said Kate, shooting Espo a silencing look to avoid overexciting Castle.

"So this…this caretaker dude. He hasn't seen Jeremy Eldridge in like _how long_?" asked Ryan.

"Guy was vague. We had to pay him twice. Once just to let us in, and then to tell us a whole lot of nothin'" complained Esposito.

"Said he last saw him in mid-April. Like what…four months ago. The landlord's not around much either, by the sounds of it. Lives in Israel, comes by a couple of times a year. Name's eh…Ari Frankel," said Kate, consulting her notes. "Mr. Schmitt, the caretaker, has promised to get me his contact information but…"

Esposito snorted. "Let's just say I'm not gonna be holding my breath on that one."

"So, we get the landlord's details, we track down Eldridge via his rent payments. What then?" asked Ryan.

"Well, the Rohypnol was an import. From Germany, judging by the packaging. Since it hasn't been approved by the FDA for use in the US, it's on the illegal drugs list, despite being only a schedule IV controlled substance. So, we'd have cause right there to bring him in for questioning, even though narcotics are slightly out of our remit. The quantities were high, so good for a possession with intent."

"Yeah, if you weren't executing an illegal search," pointed out Ryan. "Fruit of the poison tree," he muttered to himself.

"The caretaker let us in," protested Esposito.

"Yeah, only after you _bribed_ him. And you said the darkroom door was locked, so _what?_ You picked it? Yeah, that's gonna play out really well with the ADA," said Ryan sarcastically.

"You _picked_ the _lock?_" asked Castle, sounding ten shades of impressed.

Kate rolled her eyes, ignored them all, and carried on. "Tied to the disappearance and subsequent death of Caitlin Williams, the illegal disposal of her body, and the death of her baby…he's looking good for quite a number of things. We just have to find him."

"Did you get anywhere with David Gross?" Kate asked Castle, her cheeks flushing when she turned to find him openly staring at her.

"Eh…yeah. Ryan found him. Cute kid. So we got the full set. We applied for the warrant to look at Cryogenic's files. Jeez, I honestly don't know how you guys deal with all that tedious paperwork. One word out of place and…pouf," said Castle, throwing his hands in the air.

"Yeah, well maybe now you have a better appreciation of just how hard we work, dude," said Esposito. "This is no gig for monkeys."

"Yeah, well, speaking of," said Ryan. "I sent Castle in to Gates' office to get her to sign off on the warrant," he sniggered.

"Monkeys?" said Kate looking puzzled. "Wait? I'm missing the link."

"Yeah, Castle, the missing link," quipped Ryan, fist bumping Esposito. His face fell when he saw that Kate wasn't laughing with him. "So, yeah," he coughed nervously, "they experiment on monkeys sometimes, don't they? Anyway, I sent him in and…"

"You let Castle go into Gates' office with _paperwork_?" asked Kate, her voice rising a little higher. "As some kind of _experiment?_"

"Eh. Yeah, uh, and…"

Kate pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "Just tell me this story ends well, Ryan."

"Oh, she signed the warrant okay," beamed Castle, so proud of himself. "She just wanted to make sure I hadn't filled out the form, come up with any of the wording for the form, or basically touched it in anyway. And then she wanted to know why I was working with Ryan, and why he'd sent me in to see her. That…uh, yeah. That was all. But she signed it," he added, trying to end on a high note.

Kate sighed and looked at Ryan.

"Are you out of your _mind_? Gates _hates_ Castle, in case you hadn't noticed."

"I think _hates_ is a bit strong," interjected Castle indignantly.

Kate silenced him with a look.

"Unless you're deliberately angling to get my partner thrown out of this precinct, and I sincerely hope that is not the case, then _please_, for the love of God, Ryan, keep him _out_ of that woman's sight."

"Sure, boss," said Ryan, looking sheepish and contrite.

"Right, _you're_ coming with _me,_" said Kate, balling up her sandwich wrapper and brushing crumbs from her lap.

"Where are we going?" asked Castle somewhat redundantly since, frankly, he'd follow her anywhere.

"I want to go back and take another run at Melissa Garrity. She supplied her boyfriend with fertility drugs, and she's lucky her bosses didn't want to press charges against her. So I think it's time we used the Rohypnol to apply a little pressure. Maybe she supplied it to him and maybe she didn't. But she's a registered nurse, and I'm pretty sure the thought of going to prison for her disappearing act of a boyfriend isn't exactly going to appeal to her. So we'll shake her down and see what falls out. Try and work out a way to make that drugs find admissible in court. In the meantime, can you guys work on digging up this Ari Frankel? Caretaker said he lives in Hebron. Check tax records, property listings, DMV, all the usual stuff. Guy's got to stay somewhere when he's in town, and he'll still be paying property taxes, even as an expat."

"On it, boss," said Ryan, keen to get back in Kate's good books.

"Thanks. And if Schmitt gets in touch with Frankel's details, I'll call you. In the meantime, stay out of trouble, and keep out of Gates' way. We've got a hard enough job dodging Shaw right now. Let's just do our jobs, and keep the drama to a minimum. Eh, Ryan?"

Kevin Ryan nodded, and got up to leave the break room, feeling thoroughly reprimanded.

* * *

They were in the car on the way over to Brooklyn before Castle raised the subject of Kate partnering up with Esposito that morning.

"Are you getting tired of working with me? Because since we're together at home, and now with work…"

"What? _No!_ Why would you say that?" asked Kate, shooting Castle an annoyed glance. "Why would you even _think that_?"

"Because it might be true. I know that I get on your nerves sometimes, and we're together like 24/7, and I just don't want to sour either relationship, and so I'd rather you just said if…"

"Castle, I've been pretty consistent about telling you when you're getting on my nerves over the last four years. Right? I'm not going to stop now, and suddenly resort to underhand tactics or hidden meanings. Honestly," she said, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Now, how about we focus on the job, right now. We can talk more later if you want to," she offered.

"Sure, the job," said Castle, trying to lift his spirits and ignore the nagging doubt that remained at the back of his mind. "So, you think Melissa Garrity really supplied her boyfriend with the Rohypnol?"

"To be honest, no. I don't think she did. It looked like something he maybe ordered online direct from Germany or maybe bought on the grey market. There's a big parallel import business in certain specific pharmaceuticals, and since that particular drug is illegal here, that route would make sense."

They pulled up outside Melissa's apartment building on Poplar Street. Number thirty-four looked exactly the same as it had the last time they'd come to visit, except maybe for the For Rent sign fixed to the window on the second floor. Melissa Garrity's window to be exact.

Kate sighed resignedly as she pressed the intercom buzzer and waited for what she suspected was going to be a very long time.

Castle stood behind her, a couple of steps down, leaning back against the handrail.

"Are you here about the apartment?" asked a late-thirties career woman in a tight-fitting, beige skirt suit. Her blond hair was softly curled around her face, over-bleached, and candy floss fluffed, giving her a faint aura of Marilyn Monroe. Her cream blouse was low cut, with an elaborate lace bra showing through the sheer fabric.

Kate was on the verge of saying no, when she had a better idea.

"Actually, yes. Are we too early?" she asked, playing dumb.

Castle's eyes widened, and he straightened up off the railings, preparing to launch himself into whatever undercover role Kate required.

"You the Lavertys? Cause I had to squeeze in a single guy this morning, real insistent type," she drawled with a distinctive Southern accent, "and it's really thrown my entire schedule for a loop."

"Yes, the Lavertys. That's us," said Kate, reaching down a step to snag Castle's hand. "This is my husband, Dan, and I'm Lucy. So pleased to meet you Miss…?" said Kate, waiting for the woman's name, as she held out her hand.

"Ellie. Ellie Guthrie."

The realtor opened the front door of the building with her key, and then ushered them inside. She started a spiel about the communal areas, pointing out the bank of mailboxes on the right hand wall.

"And which mailbox would be ours?" asked Kate, softening her voice to such a breathy extent, in an attempt to sound feminine and cute, that Castle turned to stare at her in amazement.

"Oh look, honey. Second row down, second box in," said Kate, deliberately pointing out the box to her partner. "Two's my lucky number, you see," she added, by way of explanation for a bemused Miss Guthrie.

"Shall we go up?" asked the woman, and Kate had to fight with herself not to lead the way.

"After you, Sweetpea," said Castle, ushering Kate up the staircase ahead of him with his hand planted firmly against her ass.

Kate turned round and mouthed the word "Sweetpea?" at him, though thankfully neglected to inflict any injuries for the groping he was doing.

When they reached Melissa's front door, a neighbor popped her head out into the corridor a little way down the hallway, and Kate's heart speeded up in case the woman recognized them and blew their cover. So she turned Castle around and pulled him into a full-blown embrace in order to shield both their faces from view. They were pressed up against the wall in a pretty convincing clinch when the realtor popped her head back out of the door looking for them, once she'd managed to wrangle open the lockbox and let herself inside.

Castle was wholly relieved that they were a real life couple this time, since it made the play acting easier, more realistic, less awkward, and definitely _way_ more enjoyable. When Kate finally pulled away from him, only after the door to apartment 2C had closed with a click, he had to straighten himself out in an attempt to conceal the evidence of just how seriously he was taking this impromptu undercover assignment.

"Honeymoon phase," sang Kate to the bewildered looking agent who stood watching them with a pensive smile on her face.

"You married yourself?" asked Kate.

"No," she said, somewhat wistfully. "Haven't given up hope though. Picked out my gown and everything," she added brightly, fluttering her lashes as she drifted off into a brief bridezilla-like trance.

"Well, just look at us. We met later on in life," said Kate, taking pity on the woman. "Never discount an older man. That's what I say. Right, honey?" trilled Kate, nudging Castle in the ribs. "They have _so_ much experience," she gasped breathily for Castle's benefit, since she knew it was something that bothered him a little. "Big age gaps are _all_ in the mind," she added, squeezing Castle's ass playfully.

"Hey!" Castle protested, but Kate just walked away from him, following Ellie Guthrie into Melissa Garrity's apartment with a mischievous grin on her face.

The place looked pretty much as it had when they'd last seen it. Tidy, and with all the same furnishings, though a few personal items, like framed photographs and ornaments, were missing. But other than that, it was the same apartment.

"This is lovely," cooed Kate. "How long has it been empty?"

"No long," replied the realtor vaguely.

"And it's available immediately?" asked Castle, for authenticity sake.

"Yeah, all ready to move straight in."

"Do you know if the owner is planning on coming back soon? I mean, how long a lease could we expect to get?"

"I…eh, as far as I know, she has no big plans to return imminently. So you can certainly have the initial six months, with an option to renew after that if y'all wish."

"You mind if we…you know. Look around a little?" asked Kate, jerking her head towards the bedroom with what she hoped was an excited grin on her face.

"Sure. Be my guest," said Miss Guthrie, plopping herself down on one of Melissa's sofas to wait, while the pair of them tumbled, giggling and clutching at one another, towards the bedroom like a couple of newly weds.

"Did you see that?" hissed Kate, once they were safely inside. "All her stuff is gone."

Castle opened the closet and then a couple of dresser drawers. "Same here. It's like she never even lived in the place."

"We've just lost our best link to Jeremy Eldridge," Kate mused, popping her head into the en suite just to pass the time.

"You suppose she was lying when she told us she hadn't seen him in weeks? You think maybe they're in this together?" he asked, sinking down onto the bed.

"I don't know, Castle. Nothing would surprise me anymore. Though she did seem genuinely upset when she realized how much he'd been using her. Either that, or she's a better actor than Martha. No offense."

"None taken," said Castle, holding up his hands in agreement.

"I'll call Ryan. Get him to pull her phone records. See if maybe she'll lead us to him."

They made their way back out of the bedroom and into the living area.

"Well?" asked Ellie Guthie hopefully, rising from the sofa to meet them. "It's just darling, isn't it?"

"Yes, lovely. But not for us, I'm afraid," said Kate, tilting her head sympathetically at the woman's puzzled frown.

"We're looking for somewhere a little bigger. With room to…eh…_grow_," added Kate, giving the woman a knowing wink while she patted her impressively flat stomach.

"Ahhh, well congratulations," said the realtor, looking as sick as a dog, because these two were just too loved up to be decent, and now they were _pregnant too_.

She managed to sufficiently rid her features of the jealousy that was threatening to rise up and choke her in order to escort them back out into the hallway. They said their farewells just as another couple, a little younger than Castle and Kate, appeared at the end of the hall.

Kate hustled Castle out ahead of her suspecting, quite rightly, that these were indeed the real Lavertys. She pressed the car keys into Castle's hand, ignoring the questioning look he gave her, and they hurried down the stairs.

* * *

"Boy, that was a close call," said Castle, once they were safely inside the car.

Kate looked at her phone. "Bingo!" she said, holding the screen out for Castle to see. "Mr. Schmitt came through after all. Got an address in Forest Hills for Ari Frankel."

"Smart," whistled Castle.

"Eh, no. I don't think we're talking McMansion here, Castle. This is the New York City Housing project on 62nd Drive, right next to the L.I.E."

"Oh. Right. So, you want to drive to Queens right now?" he asked, thinking about the early evening rush.

"No. I think we'll focus on finding Melissa right now, before the trail gets any colder. And then we can hit up Mr. Frankel first thing tomorrow morning. That's if he's even in the country," she pointed out.

"Precinct then?"

"No. Let's head home. I'll call Ryan on the way."

* * *

The baby rolled to one side, drawing her tiny feet and knees up towards her chest as she did so. Her miniscule hand flexed open, palm up, as she instinctively threw her arm out to the side and stopped herself from toppling completely. The violet glow over the incubator turned the baby's jaundiced skin an eerie bluish color under the bili light. The baby whimpered, sucking on its' pink, protruding, lower lip, and then feathering her tiny tongue at the air.

"Shhh, baby," said the tall, slim man standing next to the crib. "Hush, little one. Don't cry," he whispered, never taking his eyes off the child.

A muffled sob came from behind him, and he turned to observe the culprit.

"You've done well, Rachel. _Really_ well. Sleep now. Baby will need fed soon. So you need to build up your strength," he counseled.

Rachel strained to see past him to the infant lying on its' back, squirming. She felt heavy and lethargic, but still yearned to hold her child.

"Need to see David," she said, interrupting the silence once more.

"David has duties of his own to perform. There's a storm due tonight. So we must prepare," he added, adjusting the baby's eye mask, before walking away.

_A/N: A great big mea culpa for the delay in updating this story. I hope you'll stick with me on this one? Liv _


End file.
